


knight in red and blue

by apaixono



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, M/M, Minor Violence, Secret Identity, idk if it counts but let's tag it to be safe, vague descriptions of injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-25 15:16:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 37,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14979884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apaixono/pseuds/apaixono
Summary: When life gives you lemons, make lemonade...or in Kyungsoo's case, meet a superhero (and potential love of his life) because of them.





	knight in red and blue

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt # or Self Prompt: #86  
> Pairing: D.O./Suho  
> Rating: Teen & Up  
> Warnings: profanity, minor violence, vague descriptions of injuries  
> Author’s note:  
> • thank u mods for being the real superheroes <3  
> • pls excuse the awful attempts at action + any typos and formatting mistakes!  
> • don't @ me why i had gangs instead of a villain, idk why too  
> • sungmin is my og bae #2 i miss him pls let me live  
> • song in ksoo's homework: do you have a moment - suho & jang jane

As the old saying goes, when life gives you lemons, make lemonade. Kyungsoo didn’t know that a version existed somewhere wherein when life gives you lemons, you skip out on a refreshing drink and instead ask for a superhero to come. And they _actually will_.

See, Kyungsoo is walking home from the grocery store with a bag of produce—and yes, he bought tons of lemons because he’s starting to feel a little under the weather and lemon tea always helps—in a sketchy alleyway one slightly chilly Tuesday evening. He could have walked along the main road where it’s safer, yes, but the cars are too noisy and there’s too much foot traffic and it takes way longer to get home. These alleys, while certainly not the safest of routes, cuts his walk home by a good four blocks, avoiding the roundabout at the end of the road that he has to walk around. Not bad for a narrow walkway with bad lighting and suspicious graffiti. Besides, he has always been a fast walker, and in his six-almost-seven months of walking home in this route, he hasn’t been mugged or robbed or anything.

Well, tonight must be the night that he runs out of luck, because a few feet away from the end of the alley, Kyungsoo feels the cold barrel of a gun at the small of his back and the footsteps he thought he heard from somewhere behind him finally made sense. “Don’t move or make any noise,” A gruff voice says, and if he wasn’t on the brink of death and/or robbery Kyungsoo would sigh in frustration because really? He has a _gun_ pressed against him and he’ll still dare run? Is he that dumb?

(Let it be known that his best friend Chanyeol once said his sarcasm will be the death of him. Kyungsoo now thinks he meant literally.) 

“Put the paper bag down and raise your arms up.” The gruff voice commands. Wow, bossy. 

“Hell no dude, I have fresh produce in here,” Kyungsoo protests, and winces when the gun digs further into his back. Damn it, he should _really_ keep his mouth shut. (But his groceries, though!)

“I don’t care about your stupid produce, put it down and raise your hands up!” The man roars—right in Kyungsoo’s ear, if he may add—and he jabs the gun like a sword.

“All right, jeez,” He mutters, placing the paper bag down in front of his feet and raising his arms up. “You think _I’m_ the criminal here, really.”

“Do you want your brains to be blown off, smartass?” The man yells and brings the gun to Kyungsoo’s temple. Okay, now he’s really scared, but honestly, he has no time for this. He has a composition to finish, okay? He has no time to play street fighter or something with some guy and his gun. The one time he gets mugged and he just had to get the one with the flair for theatrics. He could’ve just asked for his wallet nicely and Kyungsoo will remove everything he really needs (his apartment’s card key, library card, driver’s license, and coffee shop privilege card, and maybe that voucher for churros he got from Chanyeol because why not) before handing it over, cash and debit cards and gift cards and all the good stuff left inside. They’ll shake hands, wish each other a good night, and part ways. Done. No fuss, no frills, none of these flimsy action movie rituals with the taunting and the insults and the stalling. What’s with the stalling, anyway? It’s not like a hero will come or anything. Kyungsoo sighs and raises his arms higher when the thief growls. Damn, if he’s going to live through a bad reenactment of a crime movie, can he at least get a hero to save him or something—

“Put the gun down.”

A clear voice echoes in the otherwise empty and quite sad alleyway, and Kyungsoo almost turns to look if that didn’t mean the gun pointing at his eyes instead of his skull. And let’s be honest, he already has shitty eyesight to begin with, so that’s a pretty dumb move.

Someone drags the man away from him, and the thief yelps as he is flung to the wall with a sickening thump. In the process though, he kicks Kyungsoo on the shin, who in turn accidentally kicks his paper bag. His groceries go _everywhere_ , his lemons rolling away happily. Damn it. Figuring that his ‘hero’ (he’ll confirm that later) can handle the situation, he moves away from the fight and starts picking up his produce. Oh, his tomatoes will be so bruised. And his jeans will be so dirty, because he fell on his butt and now he’s on all fours chasing rolling lemons on a dark alleyway. What a Tuesday.

Eventually he gathers all his groceries, and Kyungsoo looks up just in time to see the man flee the alleyway, clutching his side. A buff man with jet black hair, broad shoulders, and a red cape (really?) watches the thief go before turning to him with a small smile. Coiffed hair, a strong jaw, high cheekbones, a wide forehead, and the warmest brown eyes Kyungsoo has ever seen. He has a yellow S on his chest, in the same color of the stray lemon that rolls near his red boots (again, really?). The superhero bends down and takes it before handing it to Kyungsoo.

“Are you all right?” He asks, and his voice is deep and calming. “Are you hurt? Was he able to hurt you?”

“No, I’m fine. A bit sore from his jabbing, but I’m good. Thanks for taking care of that.” Kyungsoo shakes his head and takes the lemon. “And this, too.”

“No worries. This is a dangerous place, so you shouldn’t walk here alone. Especially late at night,” The superhero says, frowning slightly.

“Sure,” Kyungsoo agrees easily, even though he’s already planning to pass by here tomorrow night after class. It’s just easier, okay? Not everyone can have super leg strength. “Thanks again, uh—sorry, what’s your name?”

The superhero suddenly becomes flustered, his neck turning red. “Oh, um—“ He stammers, and to Kyungsoo’s surprise, he raises a fist and flies the fuck out of there.

Wow, _rude_. He didn’t even offer to fly him back to his apartment or something. With another shake of his head, Kyungsoo hefts up his bag of groceries and continues his walk back home. Thankfully, he gets home in one piece, but his barely started composition homework is waiting for him in his study table, and he doesn’t know what is scarier.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kyungsoo confirms that Chanyeol is his best friend when he skips over the whole superhero thing and berates him for a good five minutes about the mugging. His friend is probably the hugest nerd in their friend group, but he’s touched that the latter chose to focus on his safety first.

“Soo, I told you not to pass by there anymore! I don’t care if it’s a shortcut, it’s sketchy as hell and you could’ve been killed!” His fellow music major is shaking from anger, like a chihuahua. Chanyeol has always been like an overgrown puppy. “What if that superhero guy wasn’t there to save you, huh? What if no one comes for you? Where would I find you next?”

“Chanyeol, I know martial arts,” Kyungsoo says calmly, and Chanyeol launches into another tirade on how close combat is dangerous and his judo training is useless against a gun and _a sassy mouth can get you nowhere, Kyungsoo, learn to shut up sometimes!_ He dutifully ignores him and continues to munch on his sandwich. He knows Chanyeol means well, but he certainly doesn’t have to listen to the entire rant. After he got all the mothering out of his system, Kyungsoo rewards Chanyeol with a rare hug, and the taller is finally appeased, leaning his head on his shoulder (even if it means he has to fold his body in half just to cuddle with Kyungsoo).

“So tell us about the superhero,” Baekhyun says around a mouthful of bibimbap. “How’s he like?”

Kyungsoo hums around a sip of iced coffee, trying to recall the hero from last night. “Uh...He’s pretty hot, all things considered. Great hair, deep voice, broad shoulders, nice jaw. Extremely nice, too. He even picked up my groceries for me,” He replies. “He’s a little awkward, though. I asked for his name and he just flew away.”

“Maybe he has a crush on you!” Chanyeol snickers. “He got flustered and left. How _cute_.”

“Hey, you know who reminds me of that?” Jongdae pipes up, and points his chopsticks to somewhere behind Kyungsoo’s shoulder. They all look up to see a short man with soft, wavy brown hair and horn-rimmed glasses walk by, his binders and laptop clutched close to his chest. His frame is almost swallowed by an oversized grey hoodie, and he looks even smaller with his shoulders hunched and his face bowed down. Kyungsoo groans and buries his face in his hands as his friends giggle and coo at him.

“Jongdae, for the last time, stop shipping me with Junmyeon,” He says. “I barely even know this guy and you’re alredy planning our wedding. Jeez.”

“But you two will be so cute together,” Jongdae whines. “Kyungsoo, why don’t you give Junmyeon a chance? He’s cute, he has a fantastic resume, he’s eligible for Latin honors, _and_ he’s super nice! What’s not to love?”

“Uh, because he’s a stranger?” Kyungsoo supplies helpfully. Kim Junmyeon is their batchmate, juggling two pre-laws and multiple organizations. He’s friends with Jongdae—they met in art appreciation or some other core subject—and Jongdae is convinced that Junmyeo has a crush on Kyungsoo. Never mind that they never even met formally—music majors don’t really have classes with liberal arts majors. “Look, we’ve never even met, okay? Stop with the delusions, it’s never going to happen.”

“Never say never, Kyungsoo-yah.” Baekhyun singsongs as he finishes off the last of his lunch. “Maybe Junmyeon is your soulmate.”

First superheroes, now soulmates. Kyungsoo has had enough of fictitious tropes coming to life, so he just rolls his eyes and goes back to his lunch.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If Kyungsoo were to have a middle name, if Korean names operated like Western ones, it would probably be ‘stubborn.’ That being said, he finds himself turning right to the same sketchy alleyway the following Friday. Not even a week after he got mugged, but whatever. He took the long route yesterday and on Wednesday to appease his friends, but on Fridays he has theater guild rehearsals after his lab classes and he simply has no energy to walk an extra four blocks. There’s a major production coming up and Kyungsoo’s the lead, and as the lead he has to be thrown from the shoulder multiple times because the story is about estranged brothers who reunite over judo. He’s tired, okay? And not everyone can afford a car, or have the patience to find parking. So sue him.

But perhaps his luck has ran out today—not that he had that much anyway, with him forgetting his calculator at home and his lab partner messing up the titration set up earlier (why on earth do music majors need chemistry units, really?) and him being thrown on a mat multiple times, among other mishaps—because as he is halfway into the alleyway Kyungsoo feels rancid breath on the back of his neck and the sharp tip of a knife prod his side. “Give me all your valuables or I’ll stab you.” A raspy voice orders. No theatrics, no flair, nothing. Just a command, a threat, and a pointed press of the knife on his stomach.

It’s a testament to how Kyungsoo is so tired that he is sorely tempted to reply, _why not both, might as well end me before this semester does_. He does, however, sigh deeply before slowly tugging off his backpack, wondering what has he done in his past life to deserve two muggings in a freaking week, do they not target anyone else, really—

Putrid Breath suddenly yelps, and before Kyungsoo could even swing his backpack in front of him the mugger is thrown back into the graffitied wall with a loud thunk, his knife clattering at Kyungsoo’s feet. He whirls in surprise to see the mugger flee the alleyway, and an _awfully familiar_ man in a blue and red suit standing in the middle, his red cape billowing in the wind.

So much for no one coming when he needs help. Guess Chanyeol’s worries are invalid.

The superhero turns to him, and his face suddenly morphs from steely determination to soft concern. “Hey, are you okay?” He asks, his handsome face marred by a frown. “Did he hurt you?”

“N-no, no, I’m fine.” Kyungsoo touches his side to check if the knife pierced him; nope, his sweatshirt is thick enough to cushion the blow. “Thank you. Again.”

“I told you this is a dangerous place, you shouldn’t be here alone at this late an hour.” The superman chides. He places a hand on Kyungsoo’s arm, and he starts guiding him out of the alleyway. His touch is firm but gentle, his hand warm and reassuring. “You don’t listen, do you?”

“It’s nearer my house,” Kyungsoo says. They’re out of the alleyway, back on the main road. “I’m too tired to walk around these buildings.”

“Well, at least bring a friend, next time,” The superhero replies. Yeah, right. He lives farthest among his friends, so no one can drop him off. He humors him with a nod and a quirk of his lips, and the superhero seems appeased as he lets his hand fall back to his side. “You’re safe here now, but just in case, be vigilant, all right? I’ll go ahead.”

“All right. Thanks again, um—“ He trails off, realizing he still does not know the superhero’s name even after already meeting twice. He wants to ask again, but he’s afraid he’ll fly off again.

“Suho.” The superhero—Suho, his mind corrects—supplies helpfully. He seems less flustered now, a little more confident. He looks even more handsome like this, up close. “My name’s Suho.”

 _Guardian_. It suits him perfectly. “Thank you, Suho,” Kyungsoo says sincerely, smiling. Suho blushes slightly and ducks his head before flying away into the night. He finds himself smiling even as he reaches his apartment complex.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The third time they meet, Kyungsoo absolutely _swears_ it’s not his fault. If anything, it’s Chanyeol’s.

Two weeks after what he dubs Mugging Week, Kyungsoo has adapted the habit of walking the longer route. Seoul’s a little cooler now so it’s much more pleasant to walk home, and he has discovered the beauty of podcasts and how he can listen to one full episode during his walk back. It’s a win-win, because he gets to listen to modern love stories and political analyses, and at the same time keep his friends (and technically, Suho) at ease. Today is like no other, a pleasant Wednesday afternoon with a gentle breeze and a beautiful sunset. Kyungsoo is walking down the main road, earbuds plugged in and another cheesy prom-related podcast playing on his phone that is safely tucked in his bag. Just as he nears the roundabout, his phone—and consequently, his bag—starts vibrating in quick, staccato beats, signaling a series of texts. Frowning, he rummages through his bag and pulls out his phone, squinting to read his messages. It turns out to be Chanyeol, who is yelling in their group chat about a pair of labrador pups that chased him and smothered him with kisses at the dog park today. Typical Chanyeol. Kyungsoo smiles fondly as he starts typing a reminder to stock up on allergy meds—

—when suddenly a thief snatches his phone from his hand and speeds away.

“Hey!” Kyungsoo yells as he runs after the snatcher, but his bag is heavy and he hasn’t exercised in weeks, and he watches with despair as the distance between him and the thief gets even bigger—

A blur of red and blue zooms past him, and Kyungsoo stumbles in shock as it catches up to the thief and tackles him to the ground. It gives him time to catch up to them, and by the time he reaches them the thief is scurrying away, an awfully familiar man in red and blue watching him go with a stern look.

“Suho,” He says in between gasps of air. “Hey. Thanks for that.”

“Not sure if you’re careless or just plain unlucky.” Suho snorts, handing him his phone back. “But I will say, you avoided the sketchy alley today. Nice.”

“I have discovered the beauty of podcasts and late afternoon walks.” Kyungsoo shrugs. “Thanks again, I needed the notes on my phone for my exam tomorrow.”

“Just doing my job. You be careful now,” Suho replies, and with a cheerful wave he flies away, leaving Kyungsoo with his phone still clutched against his chest, staring at the sky.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Maybe he’s stalking you.”

Kyungsoo reaches up to hit Chanyeol at the back of his head. “Shut up.”

“No, think about it! He was even able to assist you in something as mundane as a _phone snatching_?” Chanyeol argues, rubbing the sore spot with a hand as he tries to balance the rest of his things on his other arm. They’re walking from the library to the performing arts building, which is on the other side of the campus. Music major problems, really. “Shouldn’t he be concerned with, I don’t know, bigger crimes?”

“That’s a little elitist, don’t you think?” Kyungsoo says as he takes a sip of iced coffee. He’s running on three hours of sleep, and his first cup didn’t even work _at all_ , so here he is, drinking the rest of Chanyeol’s. It’s sweet, sweeter than he’s used to, but he’s not going to turn down free coffee, even if it’s a venti caramel macchiato, double shot, no whip, half fat, extra syrup. Chanyeol likes his sugar with coffee. “What constitutes a crime to be smaller? Is it the amount of people involved? Who dictates the gravity of a crime?"

“First of all, we’re talking about this hot superhero, okay, not the philosophy of crime or whatever.” The taller rolls his eyes. “Second of all, you _did_ need help, I understand, with those short legs of yours—“

Kyungsoo moves to kick him on the shin, but Chanyeol quickly hops away and continues blabbering. He’s too used to Kyungsoo’s violent tendencies to not develop a reflex for them.

“—it just seems quite odd for him to be there so fast, you know? Almost like he’s watching over you or something. Like a tangible, extra hot guardian angel.” Chanyeol finishes. “We’re thankful for this Suho guy, don’t get me wrong. But you gotta admit it’s a little disconcerting.”

He hums, unperturbed. “Well, that’s the point of a superhero, isn’t it? Being there to protect anyone who needs his help. Maybe he patrols or something.”

“Hmm, maybe. But I’m still wary of this guy.” Chanyeol frowns.

“Oh, sure. And his extremely buff physique, super strength, _and_ flying powers are no match to those noodles you call gains.” Kyungsoo pokes at Chanyeol’s arms, snorting.

“Hey! These are _real_ muscles, thank you very much!” Chanyeol proceeds to flex him his biceps, which are admittedly impressive but still no match for Suho’s. Kyungsoo dissolves in a fit of laughter as they turn at the corner—

—and crashes head-on right into someone, so hard that he yelps and bounces off the stranger’s solid chest, almost tripping on his own feet. Thankfully, a firm grip holds his coffee-bearing wrist to keep it from spilling, and a strong arm winds around his side and steadies him as he recovers from the impact. Kyungsoo looks up to apologize and thank the stranger, and is met with fluffy brown hair, soft brown eyes wide behind horn-rimmed glasses, and skin as pale as snow with the faintest dusting of pink, and he curses his luck as to who to literally headbutt in the middle of a damn day, only to end up in a position like they're slow dancing. Of all things.

“Are you okay?” Junmyeon asks softly, still holding him close. His voice is gentle, almost musical, but it’s enough to snap Kyungsoo out of his reverie. He immediately steps back, away from Junmyeon’s warmth and touch and concerned gaze.

“Y-yeah, I’m good,” Kyungsoo says shakily. “Um. Sorry about that.”

“No worries. You didn’t spill coffee on me or anything anyway.” Junmyeon smiles at him, bashful and almost hesitant. “Be more careful, all right? You might hurt yourself.”

“I will. Sorry again.” Kyungsoo quickly bows as Junmyeon leaves quietly, his oversized white cardigan fluttering as he walks away from them.

Beside him, Chanyeol—who was notably quiet during the entire exchange—snorts. “Okay, I now get why Jongdae thinks he likes you.”

“Chanyeol, please. I crashed into him and almost spilled coffee on his sweater, he probably thinks I’m a klutz.” He groans and runs a hand across his face.

“Huh. That explains the pretty blush he sported when he realized he was holding you,” Chanyeol says amusedly. “And the way he looked at you? I was half-expecting hearts to pop out of his irises, to be honest."

“Chanyeol, _please_.” Kyungsoo sighs. Junmyeon didn’t have hearts in his eyes. He had surprise. And a bit of panic. And something that wonders why the fuck are people barreling into him like he’s a six-foot wall blocking the corridor. Not love. They don’t even know each other, geez. Junmyeon probably labeled him on his mind as That Guy Who Almost Spilled Coffee On Me This Afternoon. Or maybe Huge Klutz With Huge Friend. Something like that.

 

“All right, all right, I’ll drop the subject.” Chanyeol’s smile just implies the opposite, but Kyungsoo takes his word for it anyway as they climb up the main stairs of the music building. “I’ll give it to him though, he has some mad reflexes.” 

“True.” He acquiesces as they make their way to the lecture hall. Not even one drop of coffee was spilled on Junmyeon’s cardigan, and he even managed to catch Kyungsoo in time. Pretty impressive. He files that information for later pondering (read: to be forgotten eventually) and concentrates on preparing his stuff for class instead.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

To whoever plans what happens in the universe each day: did Kyungsoo offend you or something? Did he forget to offer you fresh fruit or the best part of his meal or perhaps a young maiden at the new moon? Why did he suddenly become so damn unfortunate? 

See, Kyungsoo is a simple man. He dresses in black and muted colors, he always speaks softly and politely even if he’s just talking to his classmates, and even if he’s friends with some of the loudest people in the campus, he likes to stay low-key. He is a simple man with simple joys, one of which is a long walk along a bridge overlooking the river. When the hour is right, the sun sets right at the horizon and makes the river sparkle like it would in the sea. It turns the river orange and blue and purple and pink, a shimmering reflection of the ombré sky. With the setting of the sun comes cooler winds, and it always makes for a refreshing and definitely destressing sight. It’s an even longer way from home, but it’s always worth the walk, especially when Kyungsoo just needs time to think.

Today isn’t the worst day of his life so far—there are worse days, like Mugging Week—but it’s not the best one either. He pulled another all nighter yesterday, and it’s already taking a toll on his health, making him sluggish and exhausted all day. His classes seem to be extra dragging today, and everyone just seemed to be rushing about that it’s giving him a headache. Perhaps the worst part of it all is that he has another composition due at the end of the week, and while there’s still three days to finish (read: cram) it, he has been suffering from the worst creative block that he has experienced this semester. It’s annoying, to say at the very least. It’s been a long day, a long week even (and it’s only a Tuesday, good lord), and so Kyungsoo opted for the bridge route today to take a breather. Maybe the river can be his muse, or the gentle wind, or—

Police sirens?

The unmistakable sound of police cars interrupted his brooding, and Kyungsoo looks back to see two things: one, a blur of blue and red sirens, and two, a group of goons running towards his direction. They're wearing puffy black jackets and face masks, and they have huge black bags slung over their shoulders. It almost looks like a typical police chase, except Kyungsoo (and a few other passersby)

The unmistakable sound of police cars interrupted his brooding, and Kyungsoo looks back to see two things: one, a blur of blue and red sirens, and two, a group of goons running towards his direction. They're wearing puffy black jackets and facemasks, and they have huge black bags slung over their shoulders. It almost looks like a typical police chase, except Kyungsoo (and a few other passersby) are in their way. _Help_.

With a yelp, Kyungsoo steps aside and tries to avoid them, pressing himself close to the railing. The last thing that he wants is to be in the way with a group of burly stowaways, of all people. However, his shitty eyesight has severely underestimated their size from afar, because as they draw closer he notices that one, they're a huger group than he initially thought, and two, their physiques are _bigger_ than he imagined. He briefly considers running across the bridge to avoid them, but with the police cars also looming closer at an alarmingly fast speed (and yet they couldn't catch the group, really?) there is a huge possibility of him getting run over. Instead, he sends out a quick prayer to the heavens (and a silent _fuck you_ to whoever caused this event to happen right here, right now) and hopes that the goons can just swiftly pass by him without a fuss.

 Spoiler alert: they don't. To whoever's doing the scripts for his daily life: you're fired, thanks.

 The goons' footsteps are thundering as they rush past him. Kyungsoo actually gets hit by one of the sacks on the side—he briefly feels blunt corners, must be stacks of money?—and he accidentally stumbles onto one of them. "Out of the way, kid!" The man roars as he pushes Kyungsoo off him—

 —and right over the railing. Yep, from a relaxing walk along the river, now Kyungsoo is plummeting _towards_ it. He faintly registers screams from the bridge as he falls down, the world around him seemingly in slow motion. Is this how people feel when they die? When's the famed replay of his life going to happen? Why is it taking so long for him to crash into the river? The last thing that Kyungsoo sees is a blur of blue before he closes his eyes and succumbs to his shitty fate.

 _Whoosh_.

The tips of Kyungsoo's battered sneakers barely touch the river as strong arms carry him up and away from the water, the hold on his arms and calves firm and reassuring. His eyes fly open in surprise as he sees Suho's handsome frown in full, heart-stopping close up, his cape flapping in the wind. "Suho!" Kyungsoo exclaims, equal parts relieved and shocked. 

"Hold tight," Suho says, and it's the only warning that he gives before they both zoom away from the river. Kyungsoo yelps and instinctively wraps his arms around Suho's neck, but the hero pays him no mind and just holds him closer. The speed and the view are a little disconcerting, but Suho's warm and he vaguely smells like incense, and even as they fly across the Seoul skyline Kyungsoo is calm, grounded.

Eventually they reached the rooftop of Kyungsoo's apartment complex, and Suho gently puts him down. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?" He asks before proceeding to check him for any injuries whatsoever.

"I-I'm fine, just a little shocked," Kyungsoo replies. His shoulder is hurting a bit, probably from the push, but it's nothing a hot water bottle can't fix. "Thank you, really. You saved my life."

"Yeah, well, it's kind of my job description, saving civilians and all." Suho doesn't smile, his lips still pinched into a frown. "Kyungsoo, you've got to be more careful. What were you even doing there? It's the longest route back to your apartment."

"I just wanted a bit of fresh air," He reasons lamely. Suho doesn't have to know about the shitty day he just had. He's a superhero, not a counselor. Besides, he probably wouldn't understand (or even care). "I'll be even more careful next time, I promise."

"Next time, I'll have a recording device so I can play those words back at you when we meet because of another accident _yet again_." Suho rolls his eyes at him, but the corners of his lips twitch up amusedly. 

"Duly noted." Kyungsoo shoots back cheerfully, and they just smile and stare at each other for a few more moments before he remembers something. "Uh, Suho, aren't you going to help with the police chase...?"

Suho takes some time before Kyungsoo's words register in his mind, but when he does, panic quickly replaces the quiet amusement in his face. "Shit, I forgot," He curses before hurriedly flying away. Kyungsoo finds himself bursting into laughter at the superhero's silliness as he watches the red and blue blur become nothing but a speck in the sky. _Cute_.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Are you sure I can leave you here alone? You seem to attract trouble wherever you go these days.”

Kyungsoo snorts as he takes a sip of his coffee. “Aww, Jongdae, I didn’t know you care about me that much. You actually love me? What a concept.”

“Never mind, let me leave your ungrateful ass alone. If this café magically crumbles down, I won’t dig for your corpse.” Jongdae huffs and quickly packs up his bag, much to Kyungsoo’s amusement. Before he stood up, however, he raises a brow again at his friend. “You sure you’ll be okay here?”

“Jongdae, your class starts in ten minutes. Go. I’ll be fine.” Kyungsoo waves him off, smiling slightly. His friends have been a little too paranoid after hearing about the bridge incident, so even leaving him alone in a full café while he works on his composition homework is a big burden. Jongdae’ll probably get an earful from Chanyeol later. 

“If you’re sure...” Jongdae trails off as he stands up and hefts his bulging satchel onto his shoulder. “If you need anything, text me or Chanyeol, okay? Baekhyun has lab class so he’s useless, but just in case, text him too.”

“Yes, mother. Now, go! You’ll be late!” Kyungsoo shoos him away, and with one last reproachful look Jongdae hurries out of the café for his Asian lit class. With a soft, fond sigh at his friend’s antics, he picks his pencil up once more and stares at his sheet music. He’s supposed to write a verse about a meet cute, but his brain’s drawing a blank at the moment. What could be a unique but still lowkey clichéd meeting spot?

He was in the middle of listing down all the romcoms he has watched to hopefully gain inspiration when someone near him clears their throat. “Um, excuse me,” The stranger says in a soft, musical, and _awfully familiar_ voice, and Kyungsoo looks up to see an _awfully familiar_ man with soft brown hair, huge glasses framing brown doe eyes, and pale skin with its usual dusting of pink. It takes all of his energy not to gape stupidly at the other man. _What now, universe?_

“Sorry to be a bother, but is this seat taken? Someone just took the table I was about to go to, and all the other tables are full...” Junmyeon continues hesitantly. Kyungsoo finally notices the thick stack of books in Junmyeon’s arms and the purple café coaster for his order clutched in a pale hand partly obscured by his baby pink sweater. It’s midterms season, and he probably just needs to study too, but for some reason Kyungsoo is too frozen to speak because _why Junmyeon, why here, why now_. He must’ve taken too long to respond, probably gaping like an idiot (contrary to his previous plan), because the latter’s cheeks flush and he quickly shakes his head. “Um, it’s okay if you don’t want to share a table, I’ll just go, sorry to be a bother—“

“No!” In a feat that surprised even Kyungsoo himself, he quickly drops his pencil and flaps his hands uselessly, as if beckoning the other man to sit. “It’s okay, go sit. I don’t mind.”

“Oh, um. Thank you.” Junmyeon quickly bows before settling on the seat in front of Kyungsoo, arranging his books in a way that will not obstruct Kyungsoo’s paperwork. He even has a bookstand with him, how efficient. “I’m sorry again to bother you, you seem busy but I really need to get some reading done...”

“No, no! It’s fine, no biggie.” Kyungsoo assures him. A beat of silence passes by, and before he could stop himself, he blurts out, “You’re the guy I almost spilled coffee on a few days ago, right?”

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Junmyeon just said he needed to read, and he himself had a composition due in five hours. Who has time for the most awkward small talk in history? No one. _Damn it, Doh Kyungsoo_.

Junmyeon blinks at him confusedly for a few moments before his eyes light up and the most beautiful smile Kyungsoo has ever seen—pardon the superlative, he’s probably _that_ exhausted—spreads across his face. “Oh, right! You’re the one with the tall friend with huge ears, right?”

 _Thank you, Chanyeol, for looking so dumb he barely remembers me and my clumsiness_. “Yeah. Uh, sorry about that, again.”

“No harm done, don’t worry.” Junmyeon waves him off, still smiling. His eyes are crescents, his cheeks plump and pink, like peaches. _Cute_ , Kyungsoo’s tired, sleepy mind registers. _What_ , the sober part of his mind shoots back, and he promptly ignores both as the latter extends a hand. “I’m Junmyeon, by the way. Kim Junmyeon. Psych and pol sci.”

Man, did he have to bring out his two majors? Now Kyungsoo feels extra dumb. “Doh Kyungsoo, music,” He mumbles as he takes the proferred hand and shakes it. Junmyeon’s hand is warm and soft.

“Oh! Are you friends with Kim Jongdae?” Ah, there it is. “He’s an international studies major, and if I remember correctly he has mentioned you a few times. Short, orange hair, square jaw, thin eyes? Kind of screechy?" 

“Kind of screechy?” Kyungsoo repeats amusedly. Jongdae whines a lot, that’s for sure, but he has never thought of describing his friend as screechy. Maybe Junmyeon isn’t as bad as he thought.

“Ah, well, he’s...loud, sometimes.” Junmyeon scratches the back of his neck bashfully, ducking his head down. The man seems to be easily embarrassed, as seen in the way he visibly sighs in relief when his coaster finally buzzed. Kyungsoo watches him quickly jump up and scurry away, desperate to excuse himself from the conversation, and chuckles to himself. _Cute_ , the still sleepy part of his mind repeats. _I guess, but still, what_ , the sober part acquiesces. He ignores them both again as Junmyeon shuffles back with an iced Americano and a bagel, shoulders still hunched.

“How’d you meet Jongdae?” Kyungsoo asks, and Junmyeon looks up in surprise. Probably shocked that he’s not tattling to Jongdae about how he was described as _screechy_ or something. “You two seem close. He’s mentioned you a few times, too.” _He thinks we look good together, but you don’t have to know that_.

“Uh, we were partners for a final project in our intro to philosophy class. After that we just coincidentally took the same core classes, and we became close.” The latter explains as he spreads cream cheese on his bagel rather elegantly. For all the times he makes himself look even smaller, Junmyeon actually has good posture and manners. Kyungsoo wonders if he took etiquette classes before. “He always talks about his music major friends and his biochemistry friend, so when you introduced yourself it rang a bell.“

“Didn’t know Jongdae likes us that much,” Kyungsoo says, and Junmyeon laughs softly before they lapse back into silence, him tapping his pencil onto sheet music and the latter quietly munching on his bagel as he flips through his textbook. The silence stretches on to what seems like forever until— “So, midterms?”

Damn it, Doh Kyungsoo, can’t you see the man is reading? What’s with the small talk? Really?

“Hm?” Junmyeon looks up at him, a smudge of cream cheese on his top lip that he immediately licks off (the half-asleep part of Kyungsoo’s brain promptly short-circuits). “Ah, no, just a long test. Theories of personality.”

“Oh, interesting...” Kyungsoo trails off awkwardly. He _really_ regrets going off on that tangent. Why did he even continue the small talk. Why, why, _why_.

Junmyeon, bless his heart, just shrugs and smiles at him. “And you? Is that a project?” He asks, effortlessly salvaging the conversation.

“Nah, just composition homework. I need to write a song about a meet cute, but I can’t seem to continue after ‘I woke up late.’”

“Hmm...” The latter hums for a while before looking around furtively, his fingers tapping out a random pattern thoughtfully the table. “Try writing about a café? Something about coffee?”

Of course, a café-themed song. The epitome of meet cutes. “I woke up late and got a coffee,” Kyungsoo says. “Eh. Sounds flat.”

“No, no, try something less passive.” Junmyeon continues tapping on the table, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration and now it looks like he’s playing an invisible piano rather than just fidgeting. “I start the day late, the bitter taste of coffee wakes me up...”

“That’s...” _beautiful_ , Kyungsoo’s mind supplies helpfully, and for once he doesn’t complain. “How’d you do that?”

Junmyeon promptly stops playing, and his cheeks flush again as he ducks his head in embarrassment. “Ah, I uh, took a poetry elective. Core liberal arts subject.” He mumbles. “It’s not that great, really...”

“Are you kidding? It’s fantastic. Thank you.” Kyungsoo quickly scribbles it down, and he’s surprised at how his mind quickly taps out a nice, mellow beat to accompany it. The lyrics flow into the paper, almost like magic, and before he knows it he’s finished a verse.

 

_I start the day late_

_The bitter taste of coffee wakes me up_

_I sit on the same spot_

_I unintentionally throw a look and you come in my eyes_

_I’m curious about the books on the table_

 

Hmm, ‘books’ doesn’t feel right. He racks his brain for another nice noun as he takes a sip of coffee, and somehow his mind plays back to when Suho rescued him from the river. The smell of incense resurfaces at the back of his head, and before he knows it he scratches out ‘books’ and scrawls ‘incense’ instead. There, now his protagonist’s love interest is quirky, _and_ his homework is half-finished. Wow. If someone tells Kyungsoo that Junmyeon will be his long-lost muse, he’ll probably slap them on the arm and tell them to talk to Jongdae instead. But today, he’s glad he (finally) met the man. Don’t tell Jongdae.

 

(When Junmyeon leaves for his class much later, he thanks Kyungsoo again for letting him share a table, apologizes _again_ for bothering him, and smiles one last time before scurrying away. Kyungsoo finds himself smiling even long after the café doors have closed.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Remember the whole ‘if Kyungsoo had a middle name it will be stubborn’ thing? Well, if he could have a title, kind of like His Excellency or something, it would probably be ‘He Who Pushes His Luck Too Much.’ That’s right, boys and girls, on this fine Wednesday evening Kyungsoo takes a sharp right on the ol’ sketchy alley instead of going the normal, slightly farther, and definitely safer main road. His reason? There’s a Harry Potter marathon and he purposefully skipped out on a study session with Baekhyun just to catch it, but he got caught up in his last class, so now he’s running late for it. If he took the main road, Harry would probably be Sorted by the time he arrived.

(You might say, _Harry Potter, really?_ Well, at least it wasn’t a Zootopia rerun, AKA why Chanyeol was late for a make up lecture last week. You tell him.)

Anyway, it wasn’t that bad, and Kyungsoo actually thinks he could exit unscathed (and make it in time for the opening sequence). Of course, his shitty life scriptwriter disagrees, and so just as he was a few meters away from the other side, a large hand grabs his arm and pins him in place as another holds a pocket knife close to his neck (actually, his collarbone more than his jugular, but Kyungsoo isn’t going to correct him anymore). “Don’t move, don’t make a sound, just hand me your money,” A raspy voice commands, tightening his grip into a painful, vice-like one. Great. Thanks a lot, shitty life scriptwriter.

But before Kyungsoo could comment that he cannot not move _and_ hand him his stuff (criminals these days are so demanding, really), the thief is forcibly dragged away from him. He staggers forward from the impact and falls on all fours on the dirty ground, yelping. His hands sting and his knees hurt, but at least he’s safe. Gritting his teeth to stave off the pain, he braces himself on his thighs and slowly scrambles to stand up when another pair of hands, gentler this time, help him up. The smell of incense and something fruity—peaches?—fill his senses, and Kyungsoo looks up a little guiltily at his hero.

“Do I even need to tell you off?” Suho shakes his head at him, frowning. He’s still holding onto Kyungsoo’s elbows even when he’s already upright, but Kyungsoo doesn’t mind the warmth. “Really, Kyungsoo, this stubbornness is something else.”

“I needed to rush home...” Kyungsoo trails off as Suho leads them out of the alley. Which reminds him, the marathon probably started already. So much for having a head start.

“I know it’s much easier to pass by here, but what did I tell you? At least bring a friend. Or three. Thieves don’t act on big groups.” Suho ignores his excuses as he drops his hold on his elbows the moment they reach the main road, but before Kyungsoo could miss the warmth the latter takes his wrist and drags him away towards the direction of his apartment complex. He belatedly realizes that Suho is walking him home, perhaps not trusting him to make it safely, and that leaves a warm feeling in his chest that he willfully ignores. 

“All my friends live nearer the campus than I do. No one can bring me back here.” Kyungsoo explains. “Besides, I don’t pass by there anymore these days. Just today! I had...plans.”

Suho glances back at him, one eyebrow raised in skepticism, but he doesn’t pry any further as they approach Kyungsoo’s building. “I’m sure you’ll find someone. Try asking around again,” He says, dropping Kyungsoo’s wrist rather unceremoniously. “You’ll be okay going up alone, or do I have to walk you to your door?”

“I’ll be _fine_ , Suho. I won’t get mugged in my hallway.” Kyungsoo rolls his eyes, but a fond smile creeps up his lips anyway.

“Knowing you and your rotten luck, I wouldn’t discount that possibility.” Suho shoots back and shakes his head, but he grins as he gives him a two-finger salute before flying away. Kyungsoo finds himself smiling even as he unlocks his apartment, and even when he turns his TV on to Harry indeed being Sorted to Gryffindor, he doesn’t mind.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s raining cats and dogs today, and all of Seoul is horribly unprepared for it after weeks of perfect weather—including Kyungsoo, who curses his luck as he frowns at the unrelenting downpour from the lecture hall window.

“Man, this freak storm though.” Chanyeol whistles lowly. “I don’t know how to get to my car, I parked in the liberal arts open parking today.”

Kyungsoo bites back a comment on how it’s literally one building away, on how the music building has a covered pathway to the liberal arts buildings at the back, and how Chanyeol’s car is a good few feet away from the lobby because he was really early today, and just sighs deeply. First world problems, really. “At least you can go home,” He says gloomily. Even with an umbrella—which he doesn’t have either—he wouldn’t survive this storm.

“I could drop you off at your apartment if you want?” Chanyeol offers as he stuffs his notes back inside his backpack. “Or you could crash in mine until this lets up a bit.”

Kyungsoo is so, so tempted to take his best friend up on his offer, but he knows by experience that Chanyeol lives in a box of an apartment, fairly sizable but way too small for a tall, lanky boy with too much things. There’s no way they’ll both be comfortable there. As for the ride home, Chanyeol lives the farthest from Kyungsoo and nearest their campus (thus the small apartment). It’ll be a huge inconvenience, and frankly, he’s not sure the latter’s old Vios can make it _that_ far in this weather. He sighs again and shakes his head. “It’s okay. Maybe it’ll let up in a while.”

“If you’re sure.” Chanyeol raises a brow at him skeptically, but he doesn’t push it. Perhaps he knew about his car’s capability (or lack thereof) to navigate through a freak storm, traffic, and uphill roads. “Want to walk with me to the parking? Maybe you’ll change your mind by then.”

“You just want someone to go with you.” Kyungsoo snorts, but he hefts up his backpack anyway and follows his best friend out of the lecture hall and towards the bridge to one of the liberal arts buildings. He knows Chanyeol is scared of the dark and thunder, so he doesn’t mind the walk, even if they do get damp because of the strong winds blowing on all directions as they trudge through the covered pathway and towards the muggy, humid hallways. The building is empty, with most liberal arts classes ending way later than music ones, and pretty soon they reach the lobby without bumping into anyone.

"You sure you don't want to stay over for a bit?" Chanyeol asks as he produces a large umbrella from his equally large backpack. "I'm not so sure about the ride home, with Loey being pretty touchy these days, but I'm sure we can squeeze in my apartment." 

Kyungsoo squints at the open parking lot and smiles to himself as he sees the old car his friend named after _himself_ stand out in all its faded blue glory among the fancy cars liberal arts majors all seem to have. He's a faithful thing, having driven them through high school choir meets and back, but he just doesn't fancy a night of either pushing Loey uphill or leaning against Chanyeol's many instruments. "I'm good. You take care, all right?" He waves instead at his best friend and watches him disappear into the storm, his oversized grey windbreaker camouflaging in the rain. He doesn't stop waving until he sees Loey's slightly dim lights speed away, and only then does he sigh again and stare up balefully at the skies. Seems like he'll be stuck here all night, with no way to go home but—

"Kyungsoo?"

Kyungsoo whips around to see Junmyeon standing a few feet behind him, an oversized green and blue jacket similar to Chanyeol’s swallowing his small frame. His satchel is slung across his chest, textbooks resting on one arm and an almost empty cup of iced coffee with a metal straw on his other hand. His glasses are resting dangerously low on his nose, somehow making the dark circles under his eyes more prominent, but his brown orbs are warm and the smile that creeps up his lips is friendly and bright. “Hey, it is you! What are you doing here?” He asks.

“Oh, I accompanied Chanyeol to his car. We came from the music building.” Kyungsoo gesture lamely at the empty spot where Loey was. “And you?”

“This is my building,” Junmyeon answers, his eyes crinkling in amusement. _Right_. He totally forgot Junmyeon is a _double_ liberal arts major. Whoops. “You’re not going home yet?”

“I kind of can’t, in this rain,” He says sheepishly. “I’m waiting for it to let up a bit before I walk to the bus stop.”

“You’re walking home? In this storm?” Junmyeon‘s eyebrows fly up incredulously. “Kyungsoo, that’s dangerous. Chanyeol didn’t offer to bring you home?” 

“He did, but he just lives close to campus and his car is old. It’ll be a bigger inconvenience to both of us.” Kyungsoo shrugs. “It’s all right. A little rain won’t hurt.”

“A little rain.” The latter repeats, deadpan. His exasperation reminds Kyungsoo of Suho, almost. Junmyeon sighs and shakes his head before pulling out an umbrella from his satchel. “Wait here, I’ll just bring the car around. Let me take you home.”

“What? No, no, I’ll be fine—“ Kyungsoo protests, but Junmyeon holds up a hand and stops him mid-tirade.

“Kyungsoo, you didn’t check the weather today, didn’t you? This storm’s slated to last until this weekend. You’ll never get out of this lobby.” He frowns. “It’s no big deal. Consider it a thank you for letting me share your table at the café before.”

“That’s different—“ He tries to argue, but Junmyeon pops open his umbrella and steps out into the storm, and Kyungsoo could only watch the blur of green helplessly, not quite sure how he ended up in this situation. If Jongdae finds out about this—and he will, knowing the man—he’ll have a field day. He’ll probably start designing wedding invites or something.

His thoughts on possible horrible color motifs Jongdae will probably force down his throat is interrupted by the sound of wheels squelching across muddy concrete. Junmyeon emerges from the driver’s seat with a bigger umbrella, bright yellow this time, and runs up the steps to meet him. He smiles brightly and holds up the umbrella hopefully, and the sight somehow makes Kyungsoo’s heart flip that he just couldn’t bring himself to say no. With one last soft sigh, he ducks under the umbrella and lets Junmyeon lead him down the steps and towards a simple but sleek black car, nondescript but still professional-looking. The latter even opens the car door for him, and Kyungsoo clambers hurriedly inside the passenger’s seat so that the upholstery wouldn’t be ruined. The car smells like fresh leather and peaches and a hint of expensive cologne, and he feels a little out of place in his scruffy trainers and plain hoodie.

“You can type your address on the GPS,” Junmyeon says after scrambling inside the driver’s seat. His hair is wet, perhaps from trying to close the umbrella before getting inside the car, and his glasses are speckled with water. _Cute_ , the small voice in his head says. _Why are you here again_ , the rational part shoots back. Kyungsoo ignores them both and types his address on the small tablet—and almost drops it on his lap when it suggests ‘Home.’

“Why do you have my address saved on your GPS?” He blurts out. Is Junmyeon stalking him? Was Jongdae right, and is the boy secretly obsessed with him? Does he watch him from his window or something? Does Kyungsoo need to buy new curtains?

“What?” Junmyeon blinks, confused. He looks just as alarmed as he is, which is either thanks to good acting or to the fact that he actually doesn’t know what’s going on. The latter rubs his eyes tiredly before squinting at the GPS. “Maybe you accidentally pressed ‘home’? That’s my address. I live in that apartment complex.”

 _What_. Kyungsoo gapes at him unattractively, but at that moment he doesn’t care a bit. All this time, Junmyeon has been his neighbor? Why have they never met before then? “Y-you do?”

“Yeah. Unit 804.” Junmyeon opens a small drawer near the radio and produces a key ring with a fake leather tag that had 804 embossed on it. The same tacky leather tag on Kyungsoo’s keys, the one that their landlord handmade because he was bored or whatever. With shaking hands, Kyungsoo unzips the front pocket of his backpack and takes out his own keys, the same leather tag swinging visibly. The latter lets out a sound of surprise as he pokes the tag curiously. “You live in Unit 408? Oh wow, we’re neighbors and we never knew! Similar unit numbers, too! Small world, huh?”

“Y-yeah, definitely.” _Too_ small, really. Since when did Junmyeon live in his apartment complex? Is this his shitty life scriptwriter’s idea of inserting romance in his life? Do they take advice from Jongdae or something?

Junmyeon hums and starts driving, and for a while the car is wrapped in silence, with only the soft instructions of the GPS and the sound of rain hitting the windows interrupting the solace. Kyungsoo finds himself slowly dozing off, lulled by the quietness and the smooth motion of the car moving across wet roads, and—

“So how do you go home every day?”

Kyungsoo pitches forward in surprise and almost face plants onto the dashboard if not for his seatbelt and Junmyeon grabbing his arm to stop him. “Wh-what?” He asks, not quite awake enough to process the question properly.

“Oh sorry, were you asleep?” Junmyeon glances at him concernedly as he smoothly takes a left turn. “I was just wondering how you go home everyday. It’s quite far from campus.”

“Ah, I—“ Kyungsoo manages to say around a yawn that he tries to stifle behind a hand (and fails), “I take the bus until the main road and walk the rest of the way.”

“That’s such a far walk though?” The latter sounds surprised, as if he doesn’t know that Kyungsoo has no other choice. “That leaves you like, what, a fifteen-block walk? Every day?”

“Yeah, well, the rent is cheap and the apartment is great, it’s the least of my concerns.” He shrugs. It’s true, anyway—his apartment is way bigger and roomier than any of his friends, and yet he pays the cheapest rent among them all. His neighborhood is also pretty quiet—sketchy alleyways aside—and there is a small (and safe) side street that houses every shop a college student might need, from a supermarket to a drugstore to even a hole-in-the-wall coffee shop that gives out free coffee refills every finals season. He wishes his commute was shorter or less lonely, but he’s happy with his quaint flat, even if it takes him almost an hour to go home.

“True, but it’s not safe to go home late at night alone, you know. I’ve heard of people getting mugged around the area these days,” Junmyeon says, fingers tapping on the steering wheel mindlessly. “Especially near the roundabout. You know the alleyway by the corner store?”

“R-right.” _By people, you probably meant just me_ , Kyungsoo thinks. Curse Mugging Week and his rotten luck for creating such an unnecessary ruckus around his quiet neighborhood. “Well, I got used to it. And it’s not like I have any other choice. My friends all live nearer the campus.”

Junmyeon hums, probably not sure what to answer. Silence fills the car once more, and Kyungsoo turns his attention to the rain-flecked car window, watching the lights of the buildings flicker by as they approach the roundabout—

“I could drive you home, if you want?"

Kyungsoo turns to look at the latter so fast, he's not sure if the creak that he hears is from his neck or from a stray twig that the car runs over as it turns. "What?"

"I could drive you home, if you want," Junmyeon repeats. "I mean, we _do_ share the same route home, and it's not like you'd inconvenience me or anything. I just, um. Thought about it. Save the Earth, carpool or whatever."

"Oh." He blinks at the latter for a bit, still trying to comprehend the offer. He's thankful for the offer, he really is, but they're not even that close. They share a bunch of mutual friends and spent an afternoon studying together. The latter does bring people closer, that's for sure—he can't count how many acquaintances he has made from crashing Baekhyun's and Jongdae's study groups—but not close enough to offer to bring them home every day. That's like, boyfriend duties or something. Which Junmyeon shouldn't be doing. But then again, he _does_ have a point. They live in the same building, might as well share a car home. His commute fare can go to Junmyeon's gas budget or something. It's practical and eco-friendly—not that public transport and walking isn't—but it's...awkward.

Junmyeon must've picked up on his hesitation, because he clears his throat loudly before glancing at him carefully. "You don't have to say yes, you know," He says, and his tone is even, quiet. Almost disappointed, if Kyungsoo is reading him properly, and he feels bad about it. The guy is really just trying to help, and Kyungsoo went out here freaking out immediately. "But the offer's open, in case you need a ride home. Like today." 

"I just—we're not even that close, and you're offering to drive me home. It's—" Kyungsoo immediately recoils when he notices Junmyeon grimace slightly at his words, and he holds up a hand. "No, wait! I'm grateful, I really am. I actually feel bad if I take you up on the offer, because I feel like—like a leech, or something." _Smooth, Doh Kyungsoo. Real smooth. Way to shoot down a guy who's just trying to help_.

"You're not a leech, Kyungsoo. Besides, I was the one who offered, didn't I?" Junmyeon replies as they slow down to a stop in front of a stoplight. He bends down and rummages through one of the drawers on the dashboard, pulling out a white card before handing it to Kyungsoo, who scrambles to get it with two hands. It's a calling card bearing their university student government seal, with _Kim Junmyeon, College of Liberal Arts President_ embossed right in the middle. He didn't even know Junmyeon was in the student government, and here he is, being offered to be driven by a _college president_ home. Shitty Life Scriptwriter is on a roll. "My number's there, you can just give me a call if you want to hitch a ride, okay?"

"All right." Kyungsoo concedes, tucking the card inside his hoodie pocket just as they move again towards their apartment complex. He didn't even know his building had a basement parking until now, but Junmyeon zooms in and parks smoothly in an empty spot with a large 22 painted on the floor. The parking is muggy, perhaps from the rain, and they both walk quickly towards the creaky lift to escape the humid air. It seems to be working today—it's a little touchy, much like Kyungsoo's heater and perhaps everything else in the complex—and silence quickly wraps them once more, punctuated by a soft, jazzy rendition of an old DBSK song (because yes, their apartment complex is quirky like that). Pretty soon it dings and the lift doors open, and Kyungsoo sees the equally tacky silver '4' on the wall.

"So this is me," He says as Junmyeon immediately places a hand in front of the lift doors to stop them from closing. What a gentleman. "Thanks again for the ride home, Junmyeon."

"You're welcome. Have a great night, Kyungsoo." Junmyeon smiles at him, and it's small and hesitant, but somehow beautiful nonetheless. Kyungsoo doesn't even try to suppress that thought. With a nod and a small smile back, he steps out of the lift and starts walking to his apartment, only looking back when he hears the lift doors creak again as they close. Junmyeon is still watching him with his small smile and warm eyes, and he raises his hand to wave just in time for the doors to finally meet once more.

 

(When Kyungsoo is changing into his pajamas much later, the card falls from his hoodie and onto his fluffy gray rug. He picks it up and stares at it for a moment before getting his phone and saving Junmyeon’s number. Just in case.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Midterms season is finally over, which means two things: one, students only have a few more weeks to salvage their grades for the semester, and two, there will be a huge party thrown by the biggest fraternities in campus. Somehow they turn the quad into an open field similar to a music festival, the students either lounging on the side or dancing in the middle of the grass as someone DJs using an actual portable turntable. Kyungsoo wonders how they managed this feat, being allowed to host a huge college party in the middle of the university, but it probably helps that the school board is composed of pledges from the fraternities involved. Whatever. He’s only here for the free food, and partly because it’s a huge faux pas to not go in these kinds of ragers. Oh, and also because Jongdae is a member of one of the frats, and so he is socially obligated to go. Kind of. Kyungsoo’s probably just too nice.

“The point of these parties is to get shitfaced drunk and meet potential hookups,” Chanyeol says as he shoves a can of beer into Kyungsoo’s hand. “And you won’t accomplish either by staying here and brooding.”

“I am not brooding,” Kyungsoo answers, scratching his cheek lightly and wincing when a bit of powder comes off. He’s also not sure why the rager is a _costume party_ , as Halloween is still a few weeks away, but he managed to find a pair of light-up devil horns and called it a costume. Baekhyun insisted on making him a little paler, hence the makeup, but he looks pretty normal in his white button up and black slacks. Like a devil on his way to his thesis defense or something. “It’s just not my scene, you know that.”

“I know, but you should still try socializing every once in a while, Soo.” Chanyeol shakes his head. “Maybe find a good lay while you’re at it or something.”

Kyungsoo scans the crowd in front of them, or at least what he can make out with his shitty eyesight and the darkness of the night. Just a bunch of sweaty shadows gyrating against one another on one side, and a group raucously playing beer pong on the other. A few people walk pass by them, but no one catches his attention. Someone _does_ meet his gaze, however, a tall boy in what looks like a designer version of Kyungsoo’s costume except he has fake vampire fangs and a smudge of red on the corner of his lips instead of cheap devil horns from a corner store. His stare is intense and his smirk suggestive even as he hides it behind his red cup, and Kyungsoo pointedly looks away, unsettled. “Meh, monsters aren’t really my thing.” He shrugs, taking a sip of beer. It’s lukewarm and a little awful, but it’ll have to do. “But go, have your fill of socializing. I’ll be okay here.”

“If you’re sure,” Chanyeol says skeptically. “I’m not going all out today because I have work tomorrow, so if you need help, call me immediately, okay? I’ll rescue you or something.”

“My hero.” Kyungsoo grins at him, poking at the latter’s Deadpool costume. Chanyeol rolls his eyes at him, but he smiles lopsidedly anyway before disappearing into the crowd. He has always been more of the social butterfly between the two of them, Kyungsoo the more reserved one in their bunch. In this party, Chanyeol is in his element, with his charming smile and cute clumsiness and smooth way with words, and Kyungsoo is not. But that’s okay, he’s fine with staying in the sidelines, just watching the crowd move to the beat while he stays still with his shitty beer and growing headache. He even found a nice spot, an empty bench away from the couples making out but close enough to still hear the DJ. He can stay here all night, really— 

A flash of red disrupts the monotonous darkness, and from the corner of his eye, he sees the boy from earlier move a little closer to where he was with a sweep of his red cape. His eyes never leave Kyungsoo, and he can feel the weight of the boy’s stare at the back of his neck even as he disappears once more into the shadows. It makes him feel a little uncomfortable, and so with another swig of his beer Kyungsoo stands up and lets himself get swallowed by the crowd. He maneuvers through the mass of sweaty bodies towards the refreshments area. He drops off his shitty beer can in the trash bins—because amidst the wildness of the party, people are still segregating—and falls in line for a cup of hopefully less shitty punch. With this long of a queue, maybe it is that good, but also it’s free booze and college students will not turn down free booze. As he waits for his turn to fill his cup with alcohol, he sees the creepy boy again walk closer, this time not even bothering to hide himself as he also falls in line for a drink. There’s a huge gap between them, but even from a distance Kyungsoo can feel him leering at him, eyeing him like a predator watching his prey. And he knows these things happen a lot in parties, and maybe Count Creeper here is just desperate for a lay, but Kyungsoo feels so uncomfortable under the attention. If he wanted to hook up, he could just say so—Kyungsoo wouldn’t say yes, mind, but at least they got that over with. Doing this little game of hide and seek is just turning him off, and he actually just wants to go home now, in the solace of his apartment where there’s no one watching his every move.

In a fit of barely controlled panic, Kyungsoo steps out of the line for the drinks despite being only a few steps away from the kegs and hides again in the crowd that he detests, letting himself blend in. Maybe Count Creeper won’t be able to follow him anymore, especially in the more crowded areas in front of the DJ. He himself can barely see where he’s going. A furtive glance behind his shoulder lets him know that he is terribly wrong, and Count Creeper is actually walking _towards_ him now, his sneer dripping with desire like an actual vampire who just fed. Kyungsoo lets out a hiss and shoulders his way through the crowd, desperate for an escape.

A hand suddenly tugs at his elbow, and Kyungsoo yells as he pulls his arm away. “Get away from me, you creep!” He exclaims as he turns around— 

—and comes face to face with Suho, who is looking equal parts surprised and concerned. He has his superhero regalia donned under a white button down that is opened up to the third button (to show off the stylized S) and black slacks. His hair is up, with a strand curled like a comma on his forehead, and he’s wearing outrageously thick-framed glasses to top off the look. “Kyungsoo? Are you okay?” He asks.

“Suho?” Kyungsoo blinks, not sure if it’s just the shitty beer talking. “Wh-what are you doing here?”

“Patrolling. We know that it’s a huge public event, so some of us are dispatched to make sure things are kept safe.” Suho explains as he leads them away from the jumping crowd and towards a lesser crowded area nearby. “What happened to you? Why are you panicking?”

“There’s—there’s this guy who’s been following me all night,” He says, glancing around furtively in case Count Creep followed them. “He’s really making me uncomfortable, and before you found me he was walking towards me.” 

“Who is it?” Suho asks, surveying the area with a much more subtle gaze. Kyungsoo follows his suit until he spots Count Creep from a distance, looking around for someone—him, probably—with a scowl.

“There. That guy, dressed as a vampire.” Kyungsoo points at him with a shaking hand. “Tall blond guy in a red cape.”

Suho squints at the crowd—superheroes have bad eyesight too, it seems—before finally zeroing in on the guy, and his face immediately hardens. With a low growl, he puts an arm around Kyungsoo’s waist and steers him away. “That’s our target for tonight,” He says, normally gentle voice laced with a hardness that isn’t like the hero at all. “He’s part of a drug gang that focus on date drugs, and they target college students. You’re probably one of his targets for tonight.”

Kyungsoo’s heart leaps in his throat in fear, but he swallows it and tries his best to keep his voice even. “There are gangs in Seoul? At this age?” He asks instead, trying to distract himself.

“The lesser you know, Soo-yah, the better,” Suho replies, and the unconscious use of the nickname makes the fear in his gut settle a bit. The latter turns to check whether Count Creep has followed them, and Kyungsoo peeks from his shoulder as well. Count Creep has found them, judging by his glare. He has found them, judging by his glare. He hasn’t moved an inch from where he was standing, the only stationary body in the crowd, but his eyes are murderous and his scowl has deepened. He looks royally pissed off (pun intended), perhaps because his target has been whisked away at the last minute. Suho raises a brow at him as he pulls Kyungsoo even closer to his side rather protectively, silently challenging him to come closer, but Count Creep just huffs and stalks away, and Kyungsoo breathes easily for the first time that night.

“And here I thought they sent their best cronies tonight. Pathetic.” Suho mutters under his breath, still leading them away from the crowd and towards an almost empty but well lit area. His arm is still anchored on Kyungsoo’s waist, and the warmth is welcome in the chilly night. 

“Don’t you have to catch him?” Kyungsoo asks. “Turn him over to proper authorities or something?”

“I have friends who will; they know who to target. I’m on patrol duty, remember?” Suho replies. “It’s not my job to catch criminals tonight, but it is my job to look for them. And now that I did, I’m free for the rest of the evening.”

“You’re welcome,” He jokes, but it’s halfhearted at most. He’s still quite shaken up about the whole thing. “And um. Thank you, for saving me. Again.”

“Yes, well. You seem to be a magnet for trouble.” Suho smiles at him for the first time that night, eyes crinkling. “But you’re welcome, nonetheless.“

Kyungsoo smiles back at him, and they stare at each other for a few moments until the bass suddenly drops, startling them both. Suho clears his throat and pointedly takes a step back, pulling back his arm from Kyungsoo's waist. "This DJ needs to learn proper build-up," He chuckles weakly.

"Y-yeah." Kyungsoo rubs the back of his neck awkwardly and tries not to miss the warmth on his side. "So, um. What's your costume?"

"Oh! I'm Clark Kent slash Superman. I can't really patrol incognito with just my suit, so I jazzed it up a little bit." Suho grins, tugging at his shirt collar rather proudly. "See, I even got fake glasses."

"They don't even have lenses on." Kyungsoo snorts as he reaches up and hooks a finger on the hollow frames, tugging it slightly so it becomes askew. "Ah, this is a disgrace to us bespectacled people."

"Who says I'm not part of your four-eyed people?" Suho answers, batting his hand away with a laugh as he fixes his phony glasses on his nose. "Are you sure I can see you right now? Maybe I'm as blind as a mouse."

"Aren't superheroes supposed to be healthy and invincible or something?" He asks. "This is probably the first time I've heard of a hero in glasses."

"Okay, one, we're not demigods, we just have superpowers. Let's make that clear, if I somehow get stabbed in the chest, I _will_ die," Suho says. "And two, it's because glasses are impractical, especially when you have to fly. I for one prefer contact lenses, even though they dry my eyes out."

"Oh! So you _do_ wear glasses!" Kyungsoo exclaims. "Does your alter ego wear glasses, too?"

"Is that what this is? Trying to figure out my non-superhero identity?" Suho chuckles. "Kyungsoo, like what I've said, the lesser you know, the better. Let's just say Suho is cooler than my alter ego, yeah?"

"Whatever, you're no fun. I'm gonna go get a drink." Kyungsoo makes his way towards the refreshments table, but is surprised when Suho trails after him. "Do you want a drink, too? I could just get you one."

"You really think I'd let you go wander off alone after that vampire targeted you? Nah, let's go together." Suho shakes his head at him before throwing an arm around his shoulders, almost like Chanyeol when they're walking to class.

"I thought you're on patrol duty?" He shoots back. "I can handle myself, just go patrolling."

"Is this your way of saying you don't like my company?" Suho asks amusedly, laughing when Kyungsoo immediately shakes his head and splutters out an explanation. "I'm kidding, Kyungsoo. But like what I've said, I'm already done with my job. The vampire guy was my last target for tonight, so I can hang out with you, keep you safe and all."

Kyungsoo's cheeks heat up at that, but thankfully it's too dark for his blush to be visible. "I think you're too short to make me your armrest," He says instead as he takes a cup and fills it with punch. 

"You’re just the perfect size for me,” Suho replies with a grin, and Kyungsoo sincerely hopes that he doesn’t feel his neck burn up with embarrassment.

“Are you always this flirtatious?” Kyungsoo rolls his eyes at him. “I bet your alter ego is a playboy.”

“Stop fishing about my alter ego, Soo-yah. Am I not enough?” Suho asks, pouting exaggeratedly, and despite everything that he had to survive tonight—shitty beer, creepy vampires, and smooth talking superheroes, among others—Kyungsoo finds himself laughing.

“You’ll do,” He says, hiding his smile behind his cup. A solid, warm arm holding him close and secure, the smell of incense calming him down after tonight’s adventure, and the most beautiful smile he has seen shining down on him gently like the moonlight peeking from the trees in the field? There are definitely worse ways to wait for a party to pass.

(Suho dutifully brings him home, insisting that they fly to cut commute time because Kyungsoo is a little tipsy. He walks him up to his doorstep and ruffles his hair fondly before leaving. Kyungsoo finds himself smiling goofily as he brushes his teeth, but he dismisses that and his erratically beating heart to the thrill of flying over Seoul.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If someone would tell him that he’ll spend most of his nights hanging out with a superhero in his apartment rooftop, Kyungsoo will probably think they’re delusional. Yet here he is, on a chilly Thursday evening, nursing a hot mug of tea while listening to Suho talk about the armed robbery they had to stop yesterday.

After the party, they noticeably grow a little closer. Kyungsoo doesn’t get mugged as often now, so they don’t meet in sketchy alleys anymore. However, Suho is somehow always in the area when Kyungsoo’s on his way home, and he often bumps into the superhero as he makes the turn around the roundabout. At first they’ll just wave at each other before going their separate ways, but eventually Suho abandons his patrolling duties and walks him home, chatting animatedly until they reach Kyungsoo’s apartment complex. When he asks him about it one time, if it’s okay for him to put patrolling on hold, Suho just shrugs and smiles at him.

“You attract too much trouble. It’s better this way, at least I know you’re not in some alleyway getting held at knifepoint.” The superhero explains, his red cape billowing in the windy night.

“Are you sure it’s not because you just want to spend time with me?” Kyungsoo teases.

“That, too,” Suho replies casually, and Kyungsoo ducks his head to hide his rapidly reddening cheeks under the guise of looking for his keys. When they reach his apartment complex, the superhero waves at him before moving to fly away, but he reaches up and stops him with a hand on his arm.

“Um, Suho?” Kyungsoo says hesitantly. “If you just want to hang out, you can just. Um. Knock or something. Okay? You, uh, don’t have to walk me home all the time.”

Suho stares at him for a few moments before smiling angelically, his eyes crinkling a little in the way that makes Kyungsoo’s heart flutter each time. “I meant it when I said I don’t mind it because I know you’re safe,” He replies. “But I’ll gladly take up on your offer, next time. Thank you.”

Kyungsoo just nods dumbly, and with another wave Suho flies away. The following week, the superhero knocks on his window, and they share some delivery jjajjangmyeon in Kyungsoo’s tiny terrace as they talk about Suho’s anonymous teammate who managed to set off a bank’s alarm while covertly following a burglar. A few more meetings cramped together and they finally migrate to the rooftop, where they can sit beside each other on the reclining chairs and enjoy the night with each other’s company. It’s nice, to just talk to someone with such a different vibe and mind. He loves his three friends, don’t get him wrong, and they all have their lovable quirks. But Suho is funny and snarky and wise in his own way, and it’s...nice. Nicer, even. Spending time with Chanyeol leaves Kyungsoo missing his puppies at home a little more than usual because the boy is an overgrown dog, all cuddly and affectionate. Spending time with Baekhyun leaves Kyungsoo’s ears ringing with the boy’s loud laugh and his stomach hurting from laughing so hard. Spending time with Jongdae leaves Kyungsoo drained of his energy in the best way possible because the boy is adventurous and always willing to try new things. Spending time with Suho leaves him feeling exasperated at the latter’s lame jokes, introspective after a serious talk about life and crime, and even refreshed after a night of just silently watching the stars—all that, coupled with a fluttering heart and a goofy smile and pink cheeks and warm ears and butterflies going haywire in his stomach. 

Okay, so maybe Kyungsoo has a small, teeny-tiny crush on Suho. Maybe all those nights of the superhero walking him home, of them hanging out, and all the soft smiles and reassuring touches and gentle chatter made him soft. But can you blame him, really? The most beautiful man with perfect facial proportions, coupled with an equally perfectly built body, a gentle demeanor, _and_ wit and charm. Add that to nights of heart to heart talks and casual closeness and of course, the multiple knight in shining armor (or in this case, red and blue spandex) moments from before. He had it coming, really. Ooh, he had it coming. But again: can you blame him?

“Penny for your thoughts,” Suho suddenly says, clinking their mugs gently. The sound echoes in the silent night, and Kyungsoo is pulled back from his reflections. “Lost you for a while there.”

“Ah, sorry. I was just...thinking. About stuff.” Kyungsoo reasons lamely, taking a swig of his now cold tea.

“Am I that bad of a companion that you zoned off?” Suho asks amusedly, but he doesn’t seem annoyed. “I’m kidding. I know you’re tired, yet here I am, blabbing your ears off. I’m sorry.”

“No, no no no, it’s okay, I’m not that tired.” He shakes his head. But perhaps he _is_ quite exhausted, because without thinking, he adds, “I like spending time with you.”

“Oh? What was that?” Suho raises his eyebrows, looking extremely pleased. “Doh Kyungsoo actually enjoys my company? Am I dreaming? Who bribed you?”

“Oh, shut up.” Kyungsoo rolls his eyes at the superhero, but it’s fonder than he intends to be and his lips twitch up in a smile anyway. Embarrassment floods his veins for his moment of weakness, of unbridled honesty, but he figures it’s worth it when Suho grins so widely he shines brighter than the moon above their heads.

Yeah, about that crush thing? He’s probably a little too deep into Suho, but once again: can you blame him?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“You know, Soo-yah,” Jongdae says around a mouthful of chips, “You’ve been smiling a lot more often lately.” 

“Have I?” Kyungsoo asks lightly as he chops green onions for some pajeon. His casual façade would’ve worked if not for a small smile that is actually plastered on his face right now. Damn it.

“Yeah! You’re, I don’t know, brighter these days. Less grumpy.” Baekhyun adds, making grabby hands for the bag of chips. The two of them are exiled to the couch, sharing a large bag of roasted seaweed, while Chanyeol and Kyungsoo take care of the cooking. Kyungsoo is very protective of his pots and pans, so only certified cooks are allowed to make food. “Hell, you even laughed at my joke the other day. Who are you and what have you done to the real Kyungsoo?”

“Pretty sure Kyungsoo laughed at the way you almost choked on your banana milk from laughing too hard at your own joke”. Chanyeol points out helpfully as he shreds the potatoes, ignoring Baekhyun who flips him off. “But yeah, Soo, I gotta side with them. What’s up with you?”

“Nothing! Can’t I just be happy?” Kyungsoo shrugs, sweeping the chopped scallions to one side before checking on the doenjang stew boiling away on the stove. It’s a rainy Saturday, and they‘re all cooped up in Kyungsoo’s apartment waiting for some stew and jeon to warm them up. Normally they’d just order stuff in and gorge in front of Chanyeol’s huge gaming laptop to watch anime, but Kyungsoo’s in a good mood so he’s cooking. And no, it’s not because Suho hugged him and wished him a happy weekend before flying away last night. (Maybe just a little.)

“No! That’s Chanyeol’s thing. Your thing is to be the cute soft emo boy of the group.” Baekhyun waves him off.

“Cute soft emo boy?” Kyungsoo echoes confusedly, but they all ignore him.

“Maybe Soo-yah got laid,” Jongdae interjects. “Things were pretty wild during the huge midterm rager.”

“Nah, even if it was a good lay it’s too late for the post-orgasm bliss to still be visible.” Baekhyun clucks his tongue, shaking his head emphatically like they’re arguing about something more important than Kyungsoo’s happiness (and sex life, for that matter). “Oh! But maybe he found a fuck buddy there?”

“Or, you heathens, maybe he just found himself a significant other,” Chanyeol pipes up. “Has our little Kyungsoo finally found love?”

At Chanyeol’s words, Kyungsoo promptly turns pink, and he clears his throat before busying himself with the jeon batter. Unfortunately, his friends all notice this, and they begin hooting and clapping like children. 

“Kyungja has a boyfriend!” Baekhyun cheers, waving a sheet of seaweed like a banner. “Our baby’s all grown up now!”

“So when can we meet him? Or her, whatever. We won’t judge.” Jongdae adds, flashing him a thumbs up.

“Okay, first of all, there is no secret boyfriend or whatever.” Kyungsoo sighs, running a hand across his face exasperatedly. “It’s just a tiny crush, that is all. Are you three happy now?”

“No! We want to know who it is!” Chanyeol exclaims, and the two exiled boys clap and nod enthusiastically in agreement. “Tell us! Tell us!” They chorus, like children.

“Yeah, no.” Kyungsoo sticks his tongue out at them petulantly as he stirs the stew.

“Aw, Kyungja, you’re no fair!” Baekhyun huffs, looking like a kicked puppy.

“Soo-yah, I’m your best friend, how can you keep secrets like this from me?” Chanyeol complains, round eyes shining with sadness.

“Kyungsoo doesn’t love us anymore,” Jongdae whines, and the three begin to make fake crying sounds that honestly don’t sound convincing at all, but perhaps this crush really did make him softer than usual because he sighs loudly and concedes.

“All right, all right, I’m telling,” He says, and the three idiots immediately shut up and look at him with identical wide grins, their eyes shining with curiosity. “You guys remember Suho, right?”

“Oh, the hunk that saved you from being mugged that one time?” Jongdae asks, and Kyungsoo nods.

“Yeah, him. Well, he rescued me a few more times after that, and we just became a lot more closer. We started hanging out more often recently.” It feels weird, to tell this story aloud and expect people to actually believe him, but he shoulders on anyway. “And, well. I guess it just caught up to me that he’s really cute and funny and really fun to be with, so. There.”

Baekhyun coos, cradling his face in his dainty hands. “That’s so cute,” He sighs wistfully. “Imagine dating a superhero. That’ll be so awesome.”

“Yeah, Kyungsoo’s boyfriend is a celebrity!” Chanyeol adds, and Kyungsoo throws a handful of flour at him. “Sorry, sorry. _Future_ boyfriend. Don’t want to jinx it.”

“Ah, there goes my Kyungsoo/Junmyeon dreams.” Jongdae waves his hand around, as if gesturing to something flying out of the window. Hopefully his delusion about anything happening between the two of them. “I’m happy for you, Kyungsoo, I really am. But man, I was roooting for my boy. And after he finally befriended you, too! He told me you shared a table with him at the café after I left.”

“Did he also tell you that he called you screechy?” Kyungsoo deadpans, and judging by the pitch of Jongdae’s answering whine, he hasn’t. Oops. “Dae, I’ve told you millions of times, it’s never going to happen. Just because the guy offered to drive me home—“

“He _what_?”

“—doesn’t mean he likes me. Tone down with the matchmaking.” He finishes, chopsticks clinking against the bowl. “And yes, he did. Said we were neighbors anyway, so it won’t be a huge inconvenience. I refused, by the way.”

“Kyungsoo,” Jongdae starts to whine, but Chanyeol stops him by holding a hand.

“Ah, Jongdae, drop it. Now that Kyungsoo’s dating—ow, _almost_ dating Suho, he’s way out of Junmyeon hyung’s league,” The taller says, wincing slightly when Kyungsoo hits him on the arm. “I personally like this Suho guy. He seems cool.”

“I’m happy when Kyungja is happy. So be it Suho or Junmyeon hyung, I’m cool.“ Baekhyun shrugs, smiling brightly. He acts all tough and snarky, but he’s a huge cheesy softie on the inside. Kyungsoo couldn’t help but smile.

“Sweet talk won’t stop me from making cucumber jeon, Baek.” Kyungsoo jokes, and they all laugh at Baekhyun’s scandalized face. The apartment is soon filled with the sounds of loud chatter and the oil sizzling, and even with the small space and muffled traffic audible from the window it feels like home. Kyungsoo kind of wishes Suho can be here to join in the fun, but he knows he’s busy, so he just privately relives all their small moments in his head and lets the happiness flood in his veins once more. For now, that’ll have to do.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kyungsoo doesn’t normally like working out, but he does love running. It helps him clear his head and sweat his worries away, helping him focus on the cool wind and his playlist of 2000’s hits instead. He doesn’t really wake up early enough to jog at dawn, and he really prefers nighttime anyway, so he usually jogs at night, when the oval is empty save for a few runners and the occasional student walking home from class.

It’s half past six now, and the oval is miraculously empty for a Friday night. Kyungsoo smiles to himself as he stretches, relishing in the silence and stillness of the area. Just what he needs after a long week: silence, The Click Five, and an empty oval, all to himself. Plugging his earphones on snugly, he turns up the volume to Jenny and begins running. The wind is cold against his face, blowing his fringe out of his forehead, and his legs soon work on autopilot, feet hitting the ground to the beat. It’s cathartic, and he can feel the stress ebbing away with each step.

But of course, his shitty life scriptwriter won’t let him have a quiet night (honestly, he should fire his current one) because as he is texting Jongdae about grabbing dinner after his night class while jogging, Kyungsoo slips on a banana peel. Of all things. Is he in a damn cartoon? Is this a joke? Is he acting a skit in some gag show he’s unaware of? He doesn’t even know where the banana peel came from—maybe the couple who was having a meal together in a bench near the oval, maybe it was the one of the other runners who was eating while jogging (seriously?), maybe it was a passerby that just planned on littering. But whoever it was, Kyungsoo yells a huge fuck you in his head as he falls to the ground, his ankle twisting painfully in the process and his phone tumbling away from him. He yelps in pain as he lies on the dirty track, clutching his ankle. Why, why do bad things keep happening to him? Can’t he like, just get mugged again or something? He’d rather not, of course, but at least he had Suho to rescue him, or he can get out of that situation. But right now, drenched in sweat and his side covered in dirt in an empty oval, with a smarting ankle that might be broken and a phone that is too far for him to reach, he has no one but himself. Not the best of company, seeing as he can barely stand up from the pain. Kyungsoo whimpers and curls up further into a ball, trying to hold back the tears from frustration and the pain shooting up his entire leg. How he wish that Suho could come get him now, but he knows that the superhero can’t be at his beck and call all the time, and that he won’t be in campus when downtown is filled with vulnerable civilians and criminals, but he’s just in so much pain that he hopes someone, anyone will come and help him— 

“Excuse me? Are you okay?”

Kyungsoo opens his eyes to see a guy kneeling beside him, a hand nudging his shoulder gently. With his glasses askew and the pain clouding his mind he can barely see the guy’s face, which is also partially hidden behind a black beanie and huge glasses. However, the guy seems to recognize him at least, because he gasps and says, “Oh my god! Kyungsoo, what happened?”

“W-who—?” He squints and finally makes out gentle brown eyes, bushy eyebrows furrowed concernedly, and pale, flushed skin shining with the faintest sheen of sweat. “Suho?” He mumbles dazedly. Is he here? Did he come to rescue him?

“Kyungsoo, it’s Junmyeon,” Junmyeon corrects him gently, reaching over to fix his glasses for him, and Kyungsoo finally recognizes the liberal arts major with one final bout of squinting. Not Suho. He didn’t come to save him. Somehow the thought makes his stomach drop a little, but it quickly dissipates when his ankle twinges again, making him grimace and curl up again. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” The latter asks.

“I s-slipped on that banana peel, some asshole left it lying around,” Kyungsoo explains through gritted teeth, trying his best to stave off the pain. “I think my ankle’s broken. It hurts, it really hurts.”

“Let me check, okay?” Junmyeon leans over to run gentle, hesitant fingers over his ankle, assessing the damage. “It doesn’t seem broken to me, but let’s get it checked to be sure, okay? Can you stand up?”

“I think.” Kyungsoo moves to try standing up, but as he lifts himself up from the ground his ankle twinges so painfully that he collapses once more, Junmyeon catching him just in time so he lands on his lap rather than the hard ground. “Never mind, I can’t, it hurts too much, Junmyeon, it really hurts.” He whimpers. He hates being weak in front of other people, let alone almost strangers like Junmyeon, but he’s in so much pain that he curls up against the latter, staving off tears.

Thankfully, Junmyeon doesn’t even comment on his emotional outburst and instead runs a hand up and down his arm to soothe him. “It’s okay, Kyungsoo, it’s going to be okay. Let’s bring you to the clinic, we can get painkillers and ice and maybe a splint. It’s going to be okay, it’s just a short walk from here.” He reassures gently. To Kyungsoo’s surprise, Junmyeon hooks an arm behind his knees and gently lifts him in his arms, standing up with a quite impressive amount of ease and grace. Without another word, he starts walking towards the clinic, Kyungsoo cradled in his arms securely. His chest is warm and solid, and it helps him feel a little less alone in this crisis.

“I’m a little sweaty, I’m sorry,” Junmyeon jokes as they leave the oval and go up the road leading to the buildings.

“I’m sweaty _and_ dirty, I should be the one apologizing,” Kyungsoo replies. Junmyeon’s windbreaker is soft against his skin, and he smells like fresh laundry and peach body wash. For someone who has probably been jogging for a while now, he doesn’t even stink, let alone look unkempt. After only half an hour of jogging, Kyungsoo is already drenched in sweat, he lowkey smells like sweat, and his side is covered in dirt. The world is truly unfair.

“You know who should apologize? That douche who left litter around. Honestly! Who does that?” Junmyeon complains as they approach the clinic. “Kids these days flaunt their metal straws but still litter. Ugh.”

Before Kyungsoo could comment on Junmyeon calling the younger years _kids_ , a nurse rushes towards them as soon as the latter gently kicks the clinic doors open.

“What happened to him?” She demands, already ushering them towards an empty bed.

“He slipped on a banana peel in the oval and twisted his ankle.” Junmyeon answers as he gently lays him down on the bed, and Kyungsoo winces both at his ankle getting jostled and at how stupid that sounded. Thankfully, the nurse doesn’t judge him, just tutting as she peers at Kyungsoo’s foot.

“It doesn’t seem fractured to me, but I’ll have the doctor check on it as soon as he comes to be sure,” She says. “Dr. Jung should be here soon. For now, I’ll get an extra pillow and some ice. Try to remove his shoe gently if you can.”

“I will. Thank you, ma’am.” Junmyeon bows slightly in thanks, and the nurse smiles at them before rushing away. Without missing a beat, the latter moves to gently unlace Kyungsoo’s battered trainers, his movements gentle and measured.

“Junmyeon?” Kyungsoo says softly as he watches him loosen the laces so he can remove the shoe without tugging on his foot too much.

“Hmm? Does it hurt?” Junmyeon asks, pausing in his work to check for any sign of discomfort.

“No. I just—“ Kyungsoo pauses to gather his thoughts. “T-thank you. For doing this.”

“Oh. It’s no problem, Kyungsoo.” The latter smiles warmly at him, eyes crinkling slightly. “I’m just glad you’re safe now, at least.”

Somehow the warmth of Junmyeon’s expression and his words remind Kyungsoo of Suho, but maybe he’s just missing the superhero a little bit, or maybe he’s just still delirious with pain, or both. He shoves both thoughts aside and smiles back as Junmyeon successfully extracts his shoe off his now slightly swollen foot just as the nurse arrives with the pillow and ice. She’s less gentler than Junmyeon in handling his injury, making him wince a few times, but Junmyeon rests his hand reassuringly on his leg and occasionally draws circles on his skin with his thumb, and it distracts him enough from the pain (but not enough to not grimace visibly that the nurse chuckles at him).

Dr. Jung takes a long time to arrive, the nurse informing them that he’s stuck in horrible downtown traffic. Kyungsoo falls asleep during the wait, too tired and in pain to do anything else, and when he wakes up Junmyeon is bowing at a tall man in a long white coat who brightens when he sees him slowly blinking the sleep out of his eyes.

“Ah, Mr. Doh, you’re awake.” Dr. Jung smiles at him. “Well, you’ll be glad to hear that you only sprained your foot. Just ice it for fifteen minutes thrice a day and wrap it up to not strain it too much and it should be fine.”

“Oh, that’s good to hear. Thank you, Dr. Jung,” Kyungsoo says, stifling a yawn behind his hand. The doctor chuckles at him before going back to signing something on his clipboard.

“I’ll leave your medical certificate and a prescription for painkillers with your friend here. I also let him know how to take care of your foot. You’re in good hands, Mr. Doh.” Dr. Jung assures him, handing the papers to Junmyeon. “If you need anything else, just let the nurses know, but aside from that, you’re free to go. Be careful next time.” 

“Thank you, Dr. Jung,” He says again, bowing his head gratefully. Junmyeon too bows again, and with one last fatherly smile the doctor moves away to check on other patients. As soon as he leaves, the nurse comes back with a wheelchair, parking it at the foot of Kyungsoo’s bed.

“Dr. Jung told me to lend you a wheelchair. Will you be booking a taxi back to your dorm?” She asks. Oh, right. He was supposed to commute home today. But before Kyungsoo could tell her that he’s taking the bus, Junmyeon beats him to it and shakes his head.

“I’ll bring my car around, I’m just parked nearby,” He says. “C’mon, Kyungsoo, let me help you get up.” Together with the nurse, the latter lifts Kyungsoo up and helps him sit up so he can slowly limp to the wheelchair, a sturdy arm anchored on his waist to support him.

“I can push him to the entrance. Go get your car, Mr. Kim.” The nurse waves him off, almost like a mother sending his son to do errands. Junmyeon looks at Kyungsoo confusedly, and Kyungsoo just shrugs helplessly. Ahjummas are a force to be reckoned with, and honestly they’re both too tired to argue with an agitated one. Junmyeon sighs and walks away, leaving him with the nurse. Kyungsoo stifles a giggle behind his fist as he gets wheeled towards the main entrance.

“Your boyfriend is really caring, isn’t he?” The nurse pipes up, and Kyungsoo chokes on air.

“Oh, um, we’re not d-dating,” He says nervously. “We’re just, um. Friends?” Hell, he’s not even sure if they’re friends. Neighbors? Acquaintances? Two people with too many mutual friends?

“You’re not dating?” She raises a brow at him, tone laced with skepticism. “You mean he carried you all the way here in his arms and you don’t even like him? He could watch you while you slept and he wouldn’t even take you out for dinner?”

“Well, um, it was only because I couldn’t walk earlier?” Kyungsoo tries to reason. “We’re just friends, ma’am. Really good friends.”

“Right.” The nurse doesn’t seem convinced, judging by the way she shakes her head at him. “Well, why won’t you two date then? He’s handsome, caring, and polite. I’d say go for it.”

Kyungsoo’s ears turn _very_ pink, and he briefly wishes that he just took the bus home. Is this nurse related to Jongdae or something? God, this is so awkward. “Uh—“

_Honk, honk._

“Ah, he’s here. Come on, then.” Without another word, the nurse wheels him out of the clinic and down the ramp, where Junmyeon is holding the passenger seat door open for him. He helps Kyungsoo stand up on his good foot and places a hand on top of his head to cushion it from the car roof as he settles on the front seat. Junmyeon thanks the nurse for him as he closes the door, their conversation inaudible from inside the car. He laughs a bit and rubs the back of his neck self-consciously, but after a few rounds of bowing and nodding he finally makes his way to the driver’s seat and scrambles inside. Kyungsoo manages to wave at the nurse before they drive away rather hastily.

“The nurse sure is...something, isn’t she?” Junmyeon comments as they exit the campus. “Before leaving she told me to take you out for dinner when your foot is okay, and to invite her to the wedding.” 

Jeez, ahjummas and their affinity for matchmaking. The heat in Kyungsoo’s ears spread down to his neck, and he clears his throat pointedly as he looks out his window. “Y-yeah, she uh, told me about that too,” He says lamely. “I told her we’re friends, but she doesn’t seem to be buying it.”

“Ah, you know aunties. Don’t mind her and just focus on recovering, yeah?” The latter says. “Will you be okay being alone at home?”

“Yeah, I’ll manage.” Kyungsoo pauses before continuing, “Thanks again, for accompanying me today. I feel bad because your jog was interrupted. You really didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to. It’s fine, Kyungsoo. No worries.” Junmyeon replies with a small smile. “I was almost done with my run anyway, and as if you’re inconveniencing me now that I’m driving you home. I _did_ offer to carpool with you home, didn’t I?”

“...Right.” His cheeks join the blushing party, and he turns away once again to hide it. “I’m sorry that I haven’t taken you up on your offer, but um. I have someone to accompany me on my way home now, so. I’ll be fine.”

“Oh?” Junmyeon glances at him curiously, but before Kyungsoo could panic about what to say, he turns his attention back to the road and doesn’t press any further. “Well, as long as they keep you safe.”

“He does,” Kyungsoo says, and he means it. “He’s...he protects me well enough.”

“That’s good to hear, then.” The latter nods approvingly. “But just in case, the offer still stands, all right? Just let me know." 

“Of course. I’ll just text—“ He stops mid-sentence when he realizes that he hasn’t picked up his phone from where it fell in the oval. “Holy shit, my phone—“

Junmyeon reaches inside his jacket and pulls out his phone with a grin. “I picked it up before I went to you. Figured you’d forget it, with all that pain,” He explains, tossing the phone onto Kyungsoo’s lap. It has a small scratch on the side of his screen protector, but otherwise it survived the fall.

“Thanks, Junmyeon,” Kyungsoo says gratefully, clutching his phone to his chest. “You’ve done so much for me today. Just...thank you.”

“Hey, what are friends for?” Junmyeon beams at him, and he finds himself willingly smiling back. All his hesitation at calling them friends dissipates, replaced by quiet contentment. Friends, huh? He surprisingly quite likes the sound of that. Maybe they got off to the wrong start, mostly thanks to Jongdae trying to hook them up, but he’s confident they finally got their pace right. This feels like a start of something good, and for the first time that night, Kyungsoo feels at peace—traffic, swollen foot, slightly dirty shirt, and all.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Being friends with Junmyeon is surprisingly easy, almost like second nature to him.

For one, Junmyeon is...subdued. He has his quirks, like an affinity for awful puns (his newest one is something about Dubai) and his tendency to make funny faces, but he’s no Chanyeol with all his flailing limbs and big movements, or Baekhyun with his loud voice and never-ending energy supply, or Jongdae with his tendency to whine and break into random bouts of dancing. He’s the kind of quiet that Kyungsoo needs sometimes, because even if he loves his friends more than he ever lets on, he likes his peace and quiet too. Being friends with Junmyeon means studying together in the library or in a café, both their earphones plugged on and only breaking the silence when one of them has a question—Kyungsoo asks help with finding a nicer word for his lyrics, and Junmyeon sometimes needs him to affirm whether the sentence he just wrote for a paper sounded weird. Hanging out with Junmyeon in between classes means actually getting work done, or for Kyungsoo, just recharging his social batteries with a few moments of silence. It’s nice, a breath of fresh air from when his three overgrown puppies for best friends get a little too much for his taste (but he really does love them a lot though, noise and all).

For another, Junmyeon likes most of the things he likes, too. He loves watching movies, he loves traveling, and he’s a big foodie like him. He also likes wearing caps, he loves New York, and he listens to a lot of English songs. The list goes on and on, but the point is, Kyungsoo now has a friend to do all the things he’d always wanted to try with. Chanyeol is a picky eater, but at least he has Junmyeon to try the new fancy-looking Japanese hole-in-the-wall near their university (that serves cheap bentos). Jongdae would rather party on a Friday night, but at least he has Junmyeon to pick up a large pizza that they eat straight out of the box as they lean on the hood of Junmyeon’s car while watching the foot traffic along the Han River. Baekhyun prefers gaming over any other hobby, but at least he has Junmyeon to go on a (completely wholesome, _shut up Jongdae_ ) movie marathon with, jumping from crime documentaries to Studio Ghibli films to cheesy 90s romcoms. 

It also probably helps that Junmyeon is already close with Jongdae, so he slowly integrates into their little friend group a little easier with two connections instead of just one. Kyungsoo once went to the in-campus cafeteria to join his friends for lunch and was surprised to see Junmyeon already seated beside Chanyeol, chatting about dogs (apparently Junmyeon has a golden Yorkie named Byeol, and she’s the cutest little thing). Junmyeon is usually the only one who laughs at Baekhyun‘s jokes, and he helps Kyungsoo pick on Jongdae just to hear him whine. He also takes Chanyeol’s violent tendencies when he’s dying of laughter in stride, a feat in itself because the taller easily towers over him yet Junmyeon never moves even when Chanyeol pushes him because Baekhyun shot milk out of his nose _again_ , so that’s a bonus. Kyungsoo usually doesn’t warm up easily to new people, but Junmyeon somehow made himself comfortable as a new part of their small yet rowdy friend group, not quite part of it but also not ostracized, and somehow he doesn’t mind. Even if it meant rolling his eyes more often now because when he’s not too tired, Junmyeon often joins in on the three puppies’ shenanigans.

Being friends with Junmyeon is surprisingly easy. Falling for the guy? Now that’s something else entirely.

Okay, to be clear: Kyungsoo isn’t _that_ soft that he falls in love with anyone who just makes him laugh or whatever. He values a good, platonic relationship, and personally enjoys building a strong network of friends and respected colleagues. His heart is picky, sometimes too picky for its own good, and love isn’t really his priority, so he doesn’t think too much about those kinds of things. His crush on Suho is actually quite overwhelming already, and that’s not even something that can potentially bloom into something more (because let’s face it, Kyungsoo isn’t ready to be a distressed damsel anxiously waiting for their superhero partner to come home. Or be kidnapped because of said superhero partner). Tangible potential relationships? Hard pass.

That being said, Junmyeon...well, to put it simply, he makes it so easy to fall for him.

For one, Junmyeon is very hardworking. He tries his best to juggle all his responsibilities without sacrificing the quality in any of them, even if it meant overworking sometimes. He goes out of his way to make sure his work is of stellar quality, and that people will appreciate and even be inspired by his work. Junmyeon is also very thoughtful and caring, often looking out for people even without them knowing. He always finds time to check up on his friends, he offers to drive people home or walk them to their buildings or even tutor them when he has spare time. Junmyeon is kind and gentle, always respectful and more often than not smiling at everyone even after a long day. Junmyeon’s sense of humor is sometimes questionable, but he’s witty and wise and charming. Junmyeon is also their friend group’s number one supporter, despite being relatively new, and shows his support in any way that he can—he even got Chanyeol’s mix to play in their university radio, earning him a gig from one of the orgs who was hosting a party. Of course, no one can deny that Junmyeon is so, so easy on the eyes, too: his face is boyishly handsome, his body well built and subtly defined, his style always trendy. Basically, Junmyeon is a perfect boyfriend candidate, and so many people dream of being this close to him. As much as he hates to admit it, Jongdae had a good point when he was pairing them up together. 

And yet, despite everything, Kyungsoo finds himself hesitant to join the Kim Junmyeon fanclub (which was a thing, according to Jongdae). Even with perfection at his fingertips, so close that he can smell his peach body wash and hear his breathy laughter even with his friends’ raucous voices, Kyungsoo finds himself unwilling to take that small step. Why? He’s not sure. Maybe it’s because he’s scared that Jongdae is just pulling his leg and that Junmyeon wasn’t interested in him, and he’ll just look like a fool. Maybe he’s a secret commitment phobe. Or maybe... maybe deep inside, like way deeper than his secret love for the color yellow (it clashes with his monochrome aesthetic, okay?), he’s holding on to the sliver of hope that is his chance with Suho. Maybe he feels guilty for having a crush on Junmyeon when he already has his eyes on Suho. Maybe he feels bad for not walking home because Junmyeon offered to grab a bite after class. Maybe he feels indebted to stay loyal to Suho because technically, he came first into his life. He’s not sure, really, but whenever Junmyeon does something that will probably make everyone swoon there’s this force that pulls Kyungsoo back, like it’s keeping him grounded and stopping him from pursuing the latter. Maybe it’s the guilt, or his feelings for Suho, or both, or neither. He’s not sure, but he sure as hell wants answers because man, his shitty life scriptwriter is offering a love interest on a golden platter—maybe as a peace offering for all the shit he had to go through?—and he can’t take it because of his feelings for a _superhero_. Tough life, man.

Something nudges his leg, and Kyungsoo jolts from his reverie to see Junmyeon watching him amusedly. “You okay?” He asks as he pushes up his glasses. “You spaced out for a while there.”

Kyungsoo looks down to realize that yeah, he didn’t move a single page from the textbook that he was reading for music theory. So much for not going home early to study with Junmyeon in the library, because he thought that he’ll be more productive here. Oops. “Oh, uh. Just thinking of...stuff,” He replies, shaking his head to clear his mind.

Junmyeon studies him carefully for a few moments before slamming his own textbook closed. “All right, pack your bag, let’s go.” He announces as he starts clearing up his side of the table.

“Wait, what? Where are we going?” Kyungsoo asks confusedly.

“Out. You look dead on your feet, Kyungsoo. You need a break,” Junmyeon says, zipping up his pencil case and throwing it inside his satchel. 

“Ah, Junmyeon, I’m okay, really—” He tries to say, but the latter isn’t having it as he stuffs his handouts inside a battered brown envelope.

“Kyungsoo, you literally zoned out for _ten_ minutes.” Junmyeon deadpans. “You need to rest a bit, too. I know you need to study for your exam tomorrow, but you need to give yourself time to process all that information too. Take a break.”

 _I didn’t zone out because I was tired, I was busy thinking why I can’t fall for you instead._ “I’ll be fine, Junmyeon,” Kyungsoo insists. “Just a few more pages.”

“No.” Junmyeon takes his textbook from him and clutches it to his chest stubbornly, ignoring his cry of protest. “You’re taking a break, and that’s final. You’re not burning yourself out if I can help it, Doh Kyungsoo. C’mon, up up up.”

Kyungsoo sighs loudly, massaging his temples. He forgot that once Junmyeon puts his mind on something, he’ll fight tooth and nail to achieve that goal. He also forgot that he is very overprotective of his friends, and he’ll go all mother hen on them if needed. He really couldn’t get out of this even if he tried, so he huffs and makes a show of noisily putting his things away, ignoring Junmyeon’s smug smile that makes him look like a playboy douche CEO from a clichéd chaebol kdrama. As soon as he zips up his backpack, Junmyeon grabs his wrist and pulls him out of the library, still smiling triumphantly as Kyungsoo shuffles behind him.

Junmyeon brings him to a kitschy ramen pop-up shop a few blocks away from campus that Kyungsoo offhandedly mentioned before, something straight out of the streets of Japan. It’s a hundred percent authentic, complete with Japanese chefs and cloth banners and way too many office workers slurping on ramen. They squeeze side by side in front of the gyoza chef, their shoulders and thighs pressed closely together. Junmyeon orders for them in halting but passable Japanese, and they both get an extra slice of pork because the Japanese owner slash chef is so charmed by him. Kyungsoo’s glasses fog up as he slurps his soup, and Junmyeon reaches over to push it up on top of his head for him instead. They also split an order of gyoza, which is heavenly, and when they both reach for the last one Junmyeon pushes it towards him with his chopsticks and continues eating his ramen instead. It’s not the most quiet or peaceful of dinners, but the food is as comforting as the solid warmth of Junmyeon’s body by his side, and Kyungsoo does feel a little better. And also a little guiltier, because here is Junmyeon, who sacrificed much-needed studying time just to treat him to dinner because he was _tired_ , and his heart wouldn’t cooperate. He sighs and steals a glance at the latter, who is stuffing his cheeks with noodles. He looks like a bunny.

Junmyeon catches him staring, and he raises his brows questioningly. “What?”

 _If you came in my life sooner, I’ll probably be head over heels for you. Where were you all this time?_ “Nothing. You eat so fast, chew your food properly,” Kyungsoo says instead, chuckling slightly.

“At least I don’t have chives all over my face.” Junmyeon snorts, but he reaches up and wipes off the said chives from the corner of Kyungsoo’s mouth with his thumb. The skin that he touches tingle, and the butterflies in his stomach flutter curiously, but his heart stays put. He stops himself from sighing and just takes a bite of pork. Lord knows he tried, but maybe his shitty life scriptwriter is planning a bigger plot twist. Hopefully. No second lead syndrome, please, he thinks fervently. He has enough drama in his life as it is.

Shut up and eat your ramen, his shity life scriptwriter probably replies, so Kyungsoo turns his attention back to dinner and tries not to think too much about it.

Feelings are such a burden, but at least he has ramen.

 

(Junmyeon pays for both their dinners before Kyungsoo could even reach for his wallet, and they get Melona pops at a convenience store nearby that they finish by the time they reach Junmyeon’s car back on campus. He drives them both home, singing along to the love songs playing on the radio, and holds the elevator open for him with a bright smile and a promise to grab breakfast together tomorrow after their exams. The last thing Kyungsoo sees before the lift doors close is Junmyeon holding up a fist and exclaiming, “Doh Kyungsoo, fighting!” in such a cute way that he couldn’t help but smile. 

It feels like a date, but it isn’t. He doesn’t dwell on that, too.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When Kyungsoo refused Jongdae’s invite to attend yet another huge frat party on a Sunday night, he expected his evening to be nowhere near eventful. Just him, his music sheets, and a lukewarm mug of tea to accompany him in a long night of writing lyrics. And people wonder why he’s still single.

His expectations are sadly met for once—perhaps his shitty life scriptwriter is on leave—and as the night progresses he writes about one and a half stanzas, finishes another mug of tea, and powers through Jongdae’s _and_ Baekhyun’s tipsy messages (half of which are gibberish and half are blurry photos) in their group chat. He also manages to bore himself out of his damn mind, groaning and burying his head in his arms. Man, why did his introverted ass have to not make plans today? Inversely, why are all his friends not available today? Jongdae and Baekhyun are obviously at the rager, Chanyeol went back home to assist his sister who’s about to give birth and won’t return until Wednesday, and Junmyeon is drowning in meetings (“On a Sunday, though?” “Planning a job fair isn’t something you can do overnight, Soo.”). Kyungsoo is so bored, he’s tired of seeing staffs and notes and eraser crumbles, he’s tired of the taste of tea in his mouth and the sound of his humidifier whirring softly in the corner of his bedroom. He’s tired of working, and he just wants to get out of his room. Should he buy dinner? Does he deserve takeout, or should he just suck it up and eat the leftover kimchi spaghetti he made yesterday? Eating in will save him cash, but going out means leaving his stuffy, silent apartment for a while and experience a semblance of human interaction, even if it meant just talking to the server. Plus, soondubu jjigae is a great idea. Works for him.

Determination to take a damn break surges in his veins, and Kyungsoo jumps up and grabs his hoodie from the laundry basket—it doesn’t smell that bad, and he’ll stink from the small family restaurant down the street anyway—before simultaneously trying to tug it on while sliding across his smooth floor to reach his shoes faster. He almost crashes into his couch in the process, so Kyungsoo tones down the enthusiasm a little and frees his head from the confines of his thick maroon hoodie. One task at a time, he reminds himself as he runs a hand through his hair to make sure it’s somehow presentable, like a sexy-and-artfully-tousled bedhead and not a took-a-nap-for-four-hours bedhead. The more tasks he does, the longer his break, and he doesn’t break a bone in the process. Win-win!

Just as he reaches for his sneakers, a loud thump resonates from the hallway, almost like something heavy fell on the floor. Huh. Almost all of his neighbors are either at the frat party or recluses like him, and the fourth floor folks (heh, see what he did there?) are generally quiet and amiable, often keeping to themselves. Hearing a loud disturbance outside is quite out of character even for their quirky building. Kyungsoo frowns as he double knots his laces, waiting for another sound to give him a bit of context. He hears nothing, which is both unnerving and also reassuring at the same time. Maybe someone dropped something...or maybe he was imagining things? He’ll find out when he goes out—if it’s the former, he’ll help of course, and if it’s the latter...well. He’ll just run or whatever. Picking up his keys from the hook near the door, Kyungsoo swing his door open and steps out of his apartment—

—only to find a man sprawled on the hallway, bloody and bruised and unconscious. Kyungsoo almost yells for help until he takes in the red cape spread across the man’s back like a blanket and the familiar red and blue spandex dirtied and torn at some parts, and the words die in his throat as his blood runs cold and his heart drops to his stomach.

Suho.

Kyungsoo all but rushes to the superhero’s side, slowly and carefully turning him over without trying to jostle him too much. Suho is pale, his limbs slack and his pulse weak. He has a bruise on his jaw and a deep gash on his cheek, his chest is dirty and his side is blooming with what could only be blood—and those are just the visible injuries. _What the hell happened?_

Thankfully, before Kyungsoo could formulate a plan on how to haul him up to his apartment, Suho groans and stirs faintly, his eyelashes fluttering like the wings of an injured butterfly. He cracks open his eyes and blinks confusedly at him, mind probably too messed up to recognize him.

“Suho?” Kyungsoo asks gently, hoping his voice can help as he brushes the wayward hairs from Suho’s forehead with the softest of touches. “Hey, it’s me.”

The latter stares at him for a few moments before the corners of his lips, pale and cracked, twitch up. “Kyungsoo,” Suho mumbles, reaching up to take his wrist and squeeze it weakly. “You’re safe.”

“I am. And you are too, now.” Kyungsoo wonders why Suho is worrying about his safety when he literally spent all weekend holed up in his apartment, but he resolves to ask that later when the superhero isn’t too out. With a soft grunt, he helps Suho sit up. “Let’s get you patched up, okay? Can you stand?”

“Yeah–just need some support,” Suho replies, and with shaking arms he pushes himself up to stand beside Kyungsoo, leaning on his side heavily because of his wobbly knees. “Ah, s-sorry, I’m a bit off right now—“

“It’s okay, I got you.” The superhero isn’t the lightest, but Kyungsoo manages to haul the both of them back inside his apartment without a fuss. He skips his lumpy couch and deposits Suho right on his bed.

“I’ll get blood on your sheets,” Suho protests, even as he leans back against the pillows and sighs softly. He looks so frail and battered, unlike the usual Suho who’s bright and confident. It makes his heart ache.

“It’s okay, I have to change them soon anyway.” Kyungsoo assures him. “Wait here, I’ll just get the first aid kit, okay?”

“Won’t be going anywhere soon,” Suho assures him, smiling faintly. Kyungsoo shakes his head fondly as he goes to the bathroom to gather supplies to dress up the latter’s wounds. He also takes a small basin of water and an ice pack from the kitchen before carefully walking back to his room. Suho’s eyes are closed, but they open immediately when Kyungsoo takes a seat beside him and hands him the ice pack.

“So, will I hear about what happened to you, or is it better that I not know?” He asks as he dips a washcloth in the basin and begins dabbing the cuts on his face and arms clean of dirt and caked blood. He definitely needs a new super suit.

“It’s much better for you not to be in the loop, but I owe you at least an explanation for these, seeing as I’m taking up your bed right now,” Suho replies, wincing slightly when Kyungsoo presses on the gash on his cheek a little too hard. “Do you want the abridged or the unabridged version?” 

“Whichever will end by the time I’m done cleaning this up, because you need to rest.” Kyungsoo answers. “So the abridged, I suppose.”

“Very well.” Suho shifts slightly so his injured side isn’t pressed down too much on the mattress. “Long story short: evil aliens, surprise invasion, a little too much to handle at first, eventually dismantled.”

Kyungsoo gapes at him, hands frozen in the water mid-rinse. “What?”

“You asked for the abridged version.” Suho chuckles, eyes crinkling slightly, and he shouldn’t look so good with messy hair and a tattered suit, caked in blood and grime, and almost half-asleep, but Kyungsoo’s heart flops happily anyway at the superhero’s smile. He’s so whipped, and he compensates for that by (gently) flicking the latter on the forehead. “Ow, hey. I’m _incapacitated_.”

“You’re just a little roughed up, no need for hyperboles now.” He rolls his eyes, wringing the washcloth before gently dabbing away the blood from Suho’s side. The latter draws a sharp breath the moment the cold washcloth touches his skin, but he relaxes a little after that. It doesn’t seem serious, just a deep cut that obviously hit an artery somewhere, nothing iodine and gauze can’t fix. He’s no doctor, but as he clears the blood and dirt away it looks less threatening with each swipe. “Aren’t you supposed to be invincible or something, by the way?” Kyungsoo asks, mostly as a distraction because he’ll bring out the antiseptic soon and it will sting like a bitch.

“We’re not gods, Kyungsoo. Just average boys with superpowers.” Suho chuckles. “I have shitty eyesight, remember? That doesn’t magically go away when I don this suit.”

“Fair point. So these aliens must’ve attacked from too far a distance for you to see them, huh?” Kyungsoo teases as he pats the area dry with another washcloth before rummaging through his first aid kit for antiseptic and some gauze.

“First of all, I’m nearsighted. And second of all—“ Suho’s sassy comeback is cut off by another sharp inhale and a soft whimper, this time from when Kyungsoo disinfects the wound. “Second of all, they weren’t that bad. Just your average knockoff villains that want to take over every single planet because they think that’s the way to go, and an army of brainwashed cronies that barely know shit.”

“They at least know how to maim, I think,” He says thoughtfully as he covers the cut with a neatly cut square of gauze.

“Ha, ha. No, I just had to take the brunt of the army while the others—colleagues, if you will—attacked the alien overlord wannabes.” The superhero shrugs, wincing when he realizes that the movement jostles his side too much. “Didn’t see that a few of them were armed. S’all good, though.”

“Right.” Kyungsoo deadpans as he douses a fresh cotton ball with antiseptic and dabs it onto the other wounds. “And how, may I ask, did you manage to stage a huge fight without wrecking the entire city? Let alone alarming everyone?”

“We’ve learned from binge watching the Avengers to limit collateral damage.” Suho explains. “As for alarming everyone...We fought downtown, somewhere pretty close to your campus. The aliens looked like they wanted to attack the huge frat party there or whatever. I’m surprised that one, you weren’t there and two, that you didn’t hear us.”

Kyungsoo’s not sure if he’s supposed to feel relieved that he made the right decision to stay at home, or ashamed because he literally shut off the world and did his homework. Seoul was staving off an alien invasion (?!?!?!) and he’s doing _homework_. Peak nerd culture. “Yes, well. I was...busy.”

Suho’s eyes dart to his study table, where his paperwork is still scattered, but he doesn’t comment on it. “I’m just glad you’re safe,” He says instead, closing his eyes again while Kyungsoo slathers ointment on his less serious cuts. “I was worried you’d be there.”

“Is that why you went here? To check on me?” He asks, wishing that Suho is too out of it to notice the hopeful lilt in his voice.

“Yeah, pretty much,” Suho replies, and Kyungsoo’s heart leaps for joy. “And also I’m so tired and weak that I just flew randomly. It’s a miracle I didn’t crash somewhere.”

“You always seem to find me,” He says without thinking. Wow, the pining jumped out.

“What can I say? All roads lead to Rome.” Suho smiles at him vaguely, and Kyungsoo doesn’t know what to make of that, so he just pulls out his box of plasters from his first aid kit.

“I only have Pororo Band-aids. That okay with you?” He asks, holding up the box. “What color would you like?”

Suho laughs, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he plucks out one of the purple ones from Kyungsoo’s hands. “It’s my favorite color,” He says as Kyungsoo puts it over his cheek injury with gentle fingers.

“Duly noted.” Kyungsoo grins back as he tucks the latter under his warm blankets. “I’ll just fix these and eat a bit. Get some rest, okay?”

“Okay.” Suho dutifully closes his eyes and burrows under the sheets, sighing softly. “Thank you, Kyungsoo.”

“It’s the least I could do,” He replies before gathering his supplies and stepping out of the bedroom to give Suho some time to rest. He looks like he needs it, he’s had a rough day. Maybe Kyungsoo’s just used to Suho dealing with petty, less violent crimes, but he couldn’t help but worry for the superhero—and yes, he knows he doesn’t _have_ to, but he couldn’t help it. He sighs as he closes the medicine cabinet and shuffles to the kitchen to rinse the washcloths and heat up his dinner. It’s no piping hot jjigae with extra egg, but he doesn’t mind.

When Kyungsoo finished eating and washing up, he quietly pads back inside his bedroom to grab a pillow and extra blankets. Suho is fast asleep, curled up on his good side like a baby, and he doesn’t even flinch when the door creaks open. Kyungsoo slowly pulls out a pillow from the side that the latter isn’t leaning on, hoping Suho doesn’t wake up. 

But of course, with his shitty luck and equally shitty life scriptwriter who seems to be finally back from his vacation slash coffee break, he tugs a little too hard and jostles Suho mid-snore. _Great_. “Oh my god, I’m sorry,” Kyungsoo stammers as the latter blinks sleepily at him. “I’m just getting a pillow and blankets, I’ll be in the living room, okay? Go back to sleep.”

“What? Why? Just stay here,” Suho mumbles, eyes drooping closed again as he sluggishly pats the space beside him. “S’okay, there’s room.”

Kyungsoo almost faints at that suggestion, all color draining from his face. Him? Share a bed with his crush? Is this a blessing or a curse? “It’s okay, I-I’ll be fine on the c-couch or—“

Suho doesn’t bother waiting for his pathetic excuse of a sentence to be finished before reaching up and blindly grabbing his wrist. “Just stay here,” He repeats, almost pleadingly. “Please?”

All of Kyungsoo’s resolve crumbles just like that, and oh, what the hell. He puts back the pillow and gingerly climbs on the space beside Suho. It’s not the closest they’ve been, but his heart hammers in his chest anyway and the butterflies in his stomach go haywire. Suho looks especially beautiful up close, even with his purple Pororo plaster and messed up suit. His eyelashes are long and curled, resting on his pale skin. His eyebrows are slightly furrowed, emphasizing the small scar right at the corner of the slope of his nose. Even in the low light, he is beautiful, and Kyungsoo can’t look away.

Suho squeezes his wrist gently, waking him from his trance. “Sleep, Soo-yah,” He murmurs, shifting slightly so his head is resting on Kyungsoo’s shoulder. Kyungsoo doesn’t know how to fall asleep after _that_ , but he closes his eyes and tries anyway, letting the worry ebb away and be replaced by calmness. Suho is safe and patched up, and everything is well. Kyungsoo takes in the warm weight on his hand and the sweet smell of incense, and lets that calm him enough to finally doze off.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kyungsoo wakes up alone.

He wakes up to a cold bed and rumpled sheets and a pillow tucked under his arm, but no Suho. He fumbles for his glasses on his bedside table and hastily puts them on, squinting in the dark room for any sign of the superhero. None, aside from the slightly messy pillows on the other side of the bed and a small speck of blood where his side probably rested. He glances around the empty room and feels oddly empty. Not that Suho had to stay, no. But it oddly feels like a dream, or worse, a one night stand, only instead of his body Kyungsoo let his heart out in the open. Suho didn’t have to stay, but he wishes he did. But he didn’t. With a sigh, Kyungsoo rolls over to ignore the empty space beside him—

—and comes face-to-face with a still steaming mug of coffee and a folded piece of notebook paper, both resting beside the place where his glasses were moments ago.

Huh. Kyungsoo flips on his lamp and sits up, staring at the objects on his bedside table quizzically. Were they there earlier? He certainly doesn’t remember brewing coffee before bed, or leaving himself a reminder for today. He reaches for the note and unfolds it gingerly, reading the hasty scribbles softly to himself:

 

 

> Soo-yah,
> 
> Sorry that I had to leave early, uncool alter ego needs to be someplace urgent. Sorry I also took another plaster for my cheek. :< I’m fine now though, so don’t worry about me. I locked the door, and ordered breakfast for you too. Don’t forget to eat and rest okay! Thanks again for last night, I’ll make it up to you! Have a great week ahead~
> 
> Suho ‘^’

 

Okay, he has a valid reason to leave early, so no more moping, he sighs to himself as he sets aside the note and reaches for the warm mug. Kyungsoo does tend to sleep in on Mondays because his class isn’t until 11AM, but maybe Suho’s alter ego has a morning class or an early clock-in time at work. Is he a college student or a young professional? Probably a senior, he thinks as he takes a sip of coffee. It’s milkier and sweeter than how he usually takes it, but it’ll do. Kyungsoo glances at the note again and thumbs at the messy handwriting. Suho’s handwriting looks awfully familiar, but maybe it’s just his sleepy brain talking. Some food ought to do the trick. He kicks off his blankets and pads to the kitchen, cold hands cradling his mug. Good thing too, because when he arrives at his dining table there is a quite large paper bag waiting for him. Kyungsoo puts down his mug and begins looting through the bag—a cup of rice, sausage cut up into octopi, egg rolls, small containers of banchan, fresh oranges, and what seems to be a sandwich wrapped in wax paper and labeled ‘For Lunch.’ There’s another note on top of the packed lunch, and he quickly fishes it out and unfolds it.

 

 

> Soo-yah,
> 
> Hope this is enough food for you! You’re getting thinner, you need to eat more ‘^’ I bought you lunch too so you don’t have to worry about it, you have class at 11 right? Music History? There, no more excuse to skip meals~ Have a great day today!
> 
> Suho ‘^’
> 
> PS. Meet you later after a bit of patrolling! I’ll bring ice cream ^^

 

Ah, there goes all his early morning angst, gone with a simple note. Suho sure knows how to make up for his actions. Kyungsoo smiles fondly at the tiny bunny emoticon beside the superhero’s signature before setting the table for breakfast. It didn’t start off at the right foot, that’s for sure, but now he knows it’s going to be a great day.

Just as he finished washing the dishes, Junmyeon calls him on his phone. “Good morning, Kyungsoo!” He greets cheerfully the moment Kyungsoo picks up. 

“Hey, Junmyeon,” Kyungsoo says, chuckling at the latter’s brightness. Junmyeon isn’t usually a morning person, or at least before he had a coffee. Or two. Then he becomes a cute ball of sunshine, like now. “What’s up?”

“Just wanted to ask if you had breakfast already? I’m on my way back to my apartment because I forgot my laptop, maybe you want to come along?” Junmyeon asks, his voice slightly muffled by the sounds of downtown Seoul traffic. “We can grab food on the way back or something.”

Free breakfast _and_ a carpool ride to school? Wow, it must be Kyungsoo’s lucky day. Shitty life scriptwriter must be spoiling him for once, making up for all the things he had to go through. Great going, shitty life scriptwriter! “I just finished eating, actually,” He replies. “But if the offer for the ride to school is still open, I’m down.”

“‘Course it is, silly.” Junmyeon chuckles at him. “I’ll just pick you up in your unit, yeah? See you!”

“Drive safely,” Kyungsoo reminds him before ending the call. If Junmyeon’s on his way, it means he has less than an hour to prepare. Better start showering and packing his bags, lest he wants to be like Junmyeon who’ll leave his stuff behind.

A series of knocks erupts from his door right as he tugs on a clean pair of jeans, and he almost trips on his feet as he wraps his upper torso with his towel while rushing to the door at the same time. “Coming!” Kyungsoo calls as he reaches for the door and swings it open—

—to see Junmyeon in a white turtleneck and a jean jacket standing outside his apartment...with a purple Pororo Band-aid on his cheek.

What?

“Hey! Ready to go?” Junmyeon says. He glances at the towel that Kyungsoo is using as a makeshift poncho and chuckles. “Guess that’s a no.”

“Y-yeah, just one moment.” Kyungsoo couldn’t help but stare at the latter’s cheek. It’s the exact same one that he gave Suho, placed in the exact same area where the superhero has a gash. What is this coincidence? “W-what happened to your face?”

“Oh, this?” Junmyeon reaches up to touch the plaster gingerly. “I went home last Saturday to babysit my nephews. One of them scratched me on the cheek because I forcibly took them away from the TV to nap.”

 “And the plaster?” He asks. “Where did you get it?”

“From my nephews. It _is_ a children’s show, and they both love Pororo. It’s the only ones available at my brother’s house,” Junmyeon replies, looking at him rather confusedly. “Is there...something wrong?" 

“O-oh.” Not from an alien invasion, just typical terrible toddlers. Just a scary coincidence. Kyungsoo exhales before shaking his head and smiling. “No, nothing. I’ll uh, I’ll just put on a sweater and I’ll be good to go. Come in first, there’s coffee in the machine.”

“Sounds great. Take your time, Kyungsoo.” Junmyeon doesn’t look that convinced, but he toes off his loafers anyway and makes his way to the kitchen for some coffee. Kyungsoo stares at the back of his head for a few more beats before moving towards his bedroom to finish dressing up. It’s just a coincidence. An eerily timed one, and an awfully accurate one at that, but it’s just a coincidence. Nothing to lose his mind about. _Just. A. Coincidence_ , he repeats to himself firmly as he tugs on a warm sweater. Maybe he just missed Suho that’s why he sees him everywhere. _Not everything is about Suho. Don’t make it too weird, Doh Kyungsoo_.

“Ready to go?” Junmyeon asks as soon as Kyungsoo steps out of his bedroom. He seems comfy, leaning against the counter as he drinks out of Kyungsoo’s old Winnie the Pooh mug. He fits there well, his mind supplies helpfully, but he pointedly ignores it as he nods and moves to put on his shoes. Junmyeon drains his mug and rinses it quickly before following him out of the apartment and leading him towards the parking lot. As usual, he opens the door for Kyungsoo with his usual bright smile, but when he clambers inside the driver’s seat he visibly grimaces as he clutches his side. The same side that Suho injured last—okay, _shut up_ , brain.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Kyungsoo asks instead. “You okay? What hurts?”

“Ah, nothing. My nephews kicked me a little too hard on the side, and it’s hurting a little.” Junmyeon explains as he leans back against his seat, breathing rather raggedly. “You know two year olds. So violent and energetic.”

Okay, an injured cheek with the same plaster _and_ an injured side? This is getting creepier by the minute, but again, Kyungsoo shakes off those thoughts and focuses on Junmyeon instead. “Put ice on it later, okay?” He says. “And consider wearing a protective vest the next time you go babysitting.”

“I already ordered one online,” Junmyeon jokes as he starts the car, but even his bright smile and musical laugh doesn’t help settle the uncertainty bubbling in Kyungsoo’s gut. It’s all a coincidence, he chants to himself as he watches the streets whiz by from his window. Just his two crushes somehow acting like the same person. Maybe a practical joke by his shitty life scriptwriter, as usual. Yeah, a joke. Some comic relief after all that drama. Good ol’ shitty life scriptwriter providing much needed balance in his life. Nothing much but that.

Right?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Wrong. Kyungsoo has never been so wrong his entire life.

These days, he keeps seeing Junmyeon in Suho, and Suho in Junmyeon. He doesn’t know if he’s just tired, because finals is but a few weeks away, or if he’s just imagining things, or if he’s right for once. But what he also doesn’t know is how he didn’t see them for the longest time. Was he that jaded? Was he enjoying seeing the world in rose-colored glasses? Was he too deep into his feelings? He doesn’t know. But now that he sees the similarities, blurring the two men together like they’re one and the same, he can’t help but doubt what he knows, what he believes in. 

Suho and Junmyeon, for one, look alike. They have the same gentle brown eyes that crinkle in the same way that makes Kyungsoo’s heart stutter, they have the same round cheeks that blush easily, the same sharp nose and pink lips and strong jaw. They even have the same hair color, although this seems to be quite a reach. They have the same straight white teeth and long lashes and fuzzy eyebrows that furrow cutely when they’re confused. The only difference is that Suho has a scar on the upper corner of his nose and a lip mole, while Junmyeon’s face is flawless. But aside from that, Junmyeon can pass off as Suho’s doppelgänger, only bespectacled and with a fluffy fringe that he usually parts in the middle now because he says it’s what teenagers do.

Suho and Junmyeon, for another, have similar habits. They both scrunch up their nose when frustrated, laugh boisterously when amused, and fidget with their fingers when uneasy. They crack similarly awful jokes—Suho actually says one of Junmyeon’s old jokes, something about what color celebrates a holiday—and they make similarly awful puns. They give the same wise advice during late night hours, about being an inspiration and working towards a dream and all that. They even do the same thing where they sling an arm around Kyungsoo’s shoulders and rest their chin on top of his head whenever he seems like he had a long day, something Kyungsoo thought was an exclusive Suho thing (because he’s touchier) for the longest time until Junmyeon picks him up after class and does the exact same thing upon seeing him shuffle out of the classroom looking like microwaved pizza (aka, floppy and lifeless).

Okay, maybe the previous ones are just flukes, something his brain conjured up. But perhaps the most incriminating similarity is that Suho and Junmyeon are never available at the same time. Whenever Junmyeon picks him up and drives him home, Suho doesn’t go to his apartment, says he’s too busy fighting crime or whatever. Whenever Suho drops by for a chat and a cuppa in his rooftop, it’s always when Junmyeon doesn’t go home with him because of a meeting or a prior engagement. Whenever he and Junmyeon grab dinner outside, Suho doesn’t knock at his tiny balcony waiting to split dessert with him afterwards even if they have shared a lot of late night tubs of cookies and cream ice cream in the past. Whenever Suho walks him home, Junmyeon doesn’t bug him to wait for him because he’ll bring takeout back to their apartment complex so they can eat dinner together even if it has happened multiple times, the two of them sprawled on Kyungsoo’s floor in pajamas sharing a huge container of fried rice and an entire arsenal of dim sum while watching trashy Western reality TV. It’s like when one is available, the other is automatically not. Almost like they share a schedule.

Does it bother him that Junmyeon may potentially be Suho’s “uncool” alter ego? No, not really. It actually seems cool, in hindsight. But his main problem is that now he’s even more confused about his feelings—here he is, rejecting Junmyeon because he likes Suho, only to find out that they’re so similar at this point it doesn’t matter who he chooses. He held himself back from what could be a wonderful relationship with a guy who’s _already there_ for someone out of his league, only to find out that they’re both already there _and_ out of his league. And that’s only if they’re the same person. It’s a much bigger mess if they weren’t, really, because it means Kyungsoo is projecting both his crushes to each other, superimposing their personalities until they become one and the same because he can’t choose. And that’s unfair, so so unfair, because no one deserves to be loved because they remind someone of another person. And Kyungsoo hates being unfair but he also can’t help but see them as one person and now he’s even more confused.

Feelings suck. 110% not recommended. If absolutely necessary, do _not_ harbor crushes for two people, let alone two awfully similar guys. Failure rate at 99.9%, the 0.1% only because he never knows what his shitty life scriptwriter has up their sleeve. One thing’s for sure though, he has to find a protective vest for his heart, too. Looks like it’s about to go into battle soon.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thursdays, in Kyungsoo’s opinion, are lowkey the worst days of the week. His energy levels has been depleted already from the past three work days, but it’s somehow still not the weekend. It’s kind of redundant to celebrate the end of a week too early, and one also cannot party too hard because there’s still a day left in the week. Thursdays also happen to be the slowest day of the week in campus, with most students having lab classes and big lectures on that day that makes the campus almost deserted. Bottomline is: Thursdays are slow and soul-sucking, ranking just below Mondays and all its shitty glory.

But what do you know, it’s now a Thursday, and Kyungsoo is trudging along one of the brick paths outside while half-asleep. He has about half a semester’s worth of compositions in his arms that he has to rewrite and file accordingly, because his professor told him his notes look like overcooked bean sprouts, whatever that meant. Composition can go kick his ass for all he cares, because he’s a music major specializing in vocal training, not composing. Chanyeol is the one specializing in music production and they have the same workload, jeez. It’s not like they listen to their work too, because Kyungsoo submitted what could only be described as a slower mashup of 2000 K-Pop hits and his professor gave him an A. Maybe he’s just a fan of HOT and Shinhwa and Big Bang, but really, he didn’t even notice the intro to Lies transposed in—

Just as Kyungsoo passes by one of the covered pathways by the engineering block—which is a total ghost town, considering most students are slaving away in the labs at the back—someone crashes right into him and sends both him and his paperwork flying _everywhere_. Fucking fantastic. He groans and sits up from where he fell down on the hot ground, rubbing his lower back with a wince.

“Oh no, I’m sorry!” The guy who bumped into him exclaims, and Kyungsoo looks up to see a tall guy decked in all black, a black snapback pulled low over his eyes and a black face mask covering almost half his face. He looks like a goth freshman—probably explains why he was on a rush, because upperclassmen don’t really care as much anymore.

“It’s fine,” Kyungsoo says through gritted teeth as he gets on his knees and starts gathering his paperwork, seeing as the man doesn’t seem to have plans of helping him. Freshmen need to get their shit together, honestly. Or just people in general. He’s too tired for this shit, and he still has a lot to do, so if people can stop pissing him off and taking precious seconds from his already limited time that’ll be great.

He’s so lost in his internal grumbling that he doesn’t notice a shadow behind him until a pair of rough hands grab him by the shoulders and yank him up, dragging him rather unceremoniously. “Hey! What the f—“ Kyungsoo’s protest is cut off by a handkerchief pressed firmly on top of his nose and mouth. He struggles fiercely against his captor, yelling through the gag, but he inevitably inhales whatever sickly sweet smelling drug was in the handkerchief, and he feels his control over his limbs slowly ebb away, his brain shutting down despite its feeble protests. The last thing Kyungsoo sees is a group of burly men waiting in front of a nondescript white van before he blacks out—

—only to jolt awake at the sound of a gunshot fired alarmingly close to him. He opens his eyes but sees nothing, his spinning vision obscured by a blindfold. He struggles to remove them, but he realizes that his arms are crudely bound to his chair with rope, and his hands are tied behind his back with cable ties. Even his ankles are strapped on the legs of the chair, the plastic tie digging against his exposed skin. He cries for help, but only a garbled sound comes out, voice muffled by the gag effectively shutting him up. Where is he? Why is he tied up like a criminal? Who did this to him? And most importantly, where is Suho to save him when he needs him most?

Someone tugs his blindfold off, and Kyungsoo squints in the low light to see a group of men in suits sitting on a table in the middle of what seems to be a deserted storage unit, watching him with identical sneers. “Good morning, Doh Kyungsoo.” One of them, the only one wearing a silk vest in lieu of a suit jacket, stands up and walks in front of him, hands clasped pleasantly at his back. His face is youthful, but his eyes are sharp and his mouth is set in a hard line. “How was your nap?”

“Who the fuck are you?” Kyungsoo garbles behind his gag, and the man chuckles before motioning at someone from behind Kyungsoo. The gag too gets tugged off, hanging limply on his neck like a crude necklace. “Who are you and what do you want from me?” He repeats. 

“Ah, how rude of me." The man bows at him rather mockingly, the corners of his lips curling up with cold mirth. "My name is Lee Sungmin. It's nice to meet you."

"What do you want?" Kyungsoo asks warily. He has never met this man before, nor has he heard of his name anywhere. What does he need from him? How did he find out about him? Is he going to die?

"No need to be hostile, Kyungsoo-ssi. We just took you in for...a friendly chat," Sungmin says lightly, expensive shoes clacking with each step he takes as he paces in front of him. "Nothing to be afraid of, now."

He was kidnapped, drugged, blindfolded, gagged, and bound to a chair, and yet he's not supposed to be scared or angry at all? Sure, he can do that. _Not_. "Look. Whatever you need, I am a hundred percent sure you'll not get from me. I'm not rich, or affiliated with problematic people, or hiding any secret. I'm the wrong person to abduct." Kyungsoo grinds out impatiently, struggling against his cable tie restraints for emphasis. "Now if you could please free me so I can go and live my annoyingly mundane life, that'll be great, thanks—"

"Are you sure about that?" Sungmin raises an eyebrow challengingly at him. "Are you sure that _no one_ in your tiny friend group will put you in danger?"

"Did I stutter or—" Kyungsoo stops mid-sentence when one of the men in suits holds up a Polaroid of him and Suho talking in his tiny balcony, shoulders pressed close together as they cradle matching white mugs of hot cocoa, and his blood runs cold. " _No_."

"So there is one! Aw, he'll be sad to know that you forgot him, won't he?" Sungmin takes the photo from his crony and waves it around. "Tell me, Kyungsoo, who is this man beside you?"

"It's none of your business—" A hand hits him on the back of his head, _hard_. "Ow!"

"Kyungsoo-ssi, we went through all the trouble of...inviting you here," Sungmin says nonchalantly while the cronies at the table chuckle at Kyungsoo's grimace, "The least you could do is cooperate. When we ask you questions, you are expected to answer."

"And if I don't want to?" Kyungsoo challenges him, and in lieu of a reply Sungmin simply waves his hand again. The shadow who removed his blindfold and gag, and who also presumably hit him earlier, stepped to the side and hit him across the face with a loud _thwack_.

"It's not something negotiable. It's an order." The man resumes his pacing, twirling the photo idly between his fingers. "I will not repeat myself again: who is this man?"

"He's Suho and he'll be here to kick your ass any moment now." Kyungsoo answers defiantly, and all the cronies on the table laugh at him, shaking their heads and muttering insults under their breaths. Sungmin simply smiles mysteriously and continues his pacing.

"That loyalty is almost endearing," The latter remarks. "What do you know about this Suho person?"

"Nothing." _Thwack_. Another hits across his face, and Kyungsoo's cheek starts to hurt. It's probably bruised already, if not broken. "He's a superhero, he helps people, and he stops crime. That's it."

"That's it?" Both of Sungmin's brows fly up, and he glances at the photo. "You two look awfully cozy in this photo, and you're telling me you don't know anything about him?" 

"Nope." Sadly, it's true—Suho rarely talks about his personal life, just his inputs about the latest case that they tackled for that day. Their heart to hearts are more on the philosophical side, and the superhero never inserts anecdotes in his arguments.

"Pathetic," One of the cronies says audibly, but Sungmin shushes him by holding up a hand.

"Very well. Next topic, then." The latter pockets the photo inside his suit jacket. "What do you know about EXO?"

"What do I know about _what_ now?" Kyungsoo asks, and he gets a punch on the jaw for that comment. "Ow, fuck! I was asking a damn question, cool it!" The burly crony dutifully ignores him.

"Don't play foolish with me, Kyungsoo-ssi. I am not in the mood to play games." Sungmin warns him, voice taking on a harder edge. "Tell me what you know about EXO."

"I told you, I don't know anything." The shadow—Kyungsoo mentally labels him as Budget Hulk, seeing as he's just as large and strong but he only hits when told, like a robot or whatever—aims a punch at his stomach, and he gasps in pain. "I—I d-don't even know what EXO is."

"Liar. If you know Suho, you know EXO. Stop hiding it from us, they can't save you now." Sungmin stops pacing and stops right in front of him, grabbing him by the hair and tugging mercilessly. "I will ask you one last time, Doh Kyungsoo, and you will answer if you know what is good for you: tell me about EXO."

"For the last time, I don't know what EXO is, if it exists and what it does. I cannot tell you anything, for I know nothing," Kyungsoo says, and Sungmin growls before punching him square on the nose hard, harder than Budget Hulk has ever hit him.

"You're under their protection, aren't you? Made you sign under confidentiality clauses and all that? Is that why you're not saying anything like a good bitch?" The latter sneers, pulling at his hair again and twisting. Kyungsoo yelps and closes his eyes in pain, struggling against both his bonds and Sungmin's grip. "Tell me all you know about EXO, and I will spare your life."

"Sungmin-ssi, with all due respect, I don't know anything." Kyungsoo gasps through the pain. "I don't know whose protection I'm under, if I'm under even any protection at all, and I can vouch that the only thing I sign these days are my credit card pay slips. I don't know who EXO is."

Sungmin, to no one's surprise, doesn't buy Kyungsoo's (admittedly funny) excuse. He lets go of his hair and turns his back on him, pausing slightly before whipping back and pointing a gun straight at him. _Holy fuck._ "Your loyalty to SM will mean nothing when you're only a cold corpse," He says coldly as he slowly walks towards Kyungsoo and presses the barrel of the gun square in the middle of his forehead. "Talk, and I will spare your life. Otherwise, I will do what I do with things that do not have a purpose anymore—"

The man flicks his finger ever so gently, and the gun clicks and loads itself ready for firing. Kyungsoo gulps.

"—I dispose of them." Sungmin finishes, eyes burning with anger. "Say goodbye, Doh Kyungsoo."

So this is it. This is how he dies—a bullet through his head att the hands of passive aggressive cronies in suits just because he didn't brush up on who EXO is. Are they a pop sensation? Are they a million seller? What do they do? Guess Kyungsoo will never find out, because he's about to die. He closes his eyes and readies himself for his fate—

 _Thwack_.

Something cold and wet brushes past Kyungsoo's nose and knocks the gun out of Sungmin's hands, landing in a water puddle far from them. His eyes fly open to see Suho standing by the doorway, looking positively _murderous_. Behind him, a group of similarly dressed men flank him, and they look like a younger (and cooler) verison of the Avengers.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't EXO." Sungmin grins wryly at them all. "I have a friend over, if you don't mind."

"Don't touch him, Lee." Suho warns. "Or you'll answer to me."

"Oh, absolutely terrifying." Sungmin even fakes a shudder, looking absolutely unconvincing. "And how, pray tell, do you plan to make me submit to you, Suho?"

And with that final taunt, all hell breaks loose. _Literally_.

Torrents of fire erupt as a huge wave of water that came out of _nowhere_ attacks the crony table, knocking them off their feet. With a yell, Suho and his colleagues charge at the goons, kicking and punching and dodging and occasionally attacking them with supernatural powers. Suho takes it upon himself to fight Sungmin, and they battle it out, water against bullets and martial arts training. They all become so preoccupied that they forget about Kyungsoo, and as he watches the fighting in his chair trap someone staggers to him—Budget Hulk, now sporting burns and an awful cut on his face, aims a gun at him and fires with a howl. Kyungsoo watches as the bullet flies as if it’s in slow motion, its trajectory right at Kyungsoo’s heart delayed by a few seconds until—

A gust of wind suddenly blows towards them, so hard that the bullet swerves and grazes his arm instead. It still hurts like a bitch, and Kyungsoo yowls in pain as Budget Hulk is whisked away into a tornado. His voice somehow carries to Suho, and when he sees the bloody, gaping wound he lets out a loud, furious roar and throws his hands up. Immediately, the water forms a tidal wave and washes over the entire building, from the cronies in suits to the goons waiting in the sidelines to Sungmin. Suho then balls his hands into fists, and the water immediately freezes, keeping everyone in their position with no other choice but to stay still and wait for the police to arrive—which all get to the site after only a few minutes, their sirens and blue and red lights filling the otherwise dark storage center. Or at least how Kyungsoo thinks it goes, because the pain is making him delirious. It’s like spraining his ankle, but ten times worse.

“Soo-yah, Soo-yah, I’m here,” Suho’s gentle voice permeates through his pained daze, and Kyungsoo could only blink confusedly as the superhero breaks his binds with what looks like a shard of ice. “Kyungsoo, you’re safe now, okay?”

“T-thank you,” Kyungsoo mumbles, reaching up with his newly freed hands to touch Suho, but before he could reach for him his body gives up, from the physical and emotional injuries to post-fight trauma catching up to him, and he faints into Suho’s arms.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kyungsoo wakes up to the sounds of someone crying. 

He groans softly as his eyelids flutter open, squinting in the dimly lit room. He recognizes his framed map of New York and the folded laundry stacked in his study chair—seems to be back in his apartment, tucked safely in bed. He feels like a whole line of trucks ran over him, his face and side hurt from where those stupid goons kicked him, and his arm that got grazed by the bullet is smarting under the bandage, but he’s safe, he’s alive, and he’s in one piece.

Someone sniffles beside him, and Kyungsoo turns to see Suho sitting down on the edge of the bed. He is slowly and methodically putting back the first aid kit, a basin of what looks like cold water by his side. Tears are running down his face, but he doesn’t seem to be aware of it, eyes trained on his shaking hands and their task. The sight makes Kyungsoo’s heart ache, even more than when Suho was injured: his saving grace, his sunshine, looking so broken and devastated. He slowly extends a hand to reach for Suho’s own, and the superhero turns to him in surprise.

“Soo-yah?” Suho whispers, taking his hand on one of his and using his other one to brush his hair gently. “Hey, you’re awake. Hi. How are you feeling?”

“Shitty, but alive,” Kyungsoo croaks. He musters up all of his energy to lift up his free hand and wipe off the tears from the latter’s cheeks with his thumb. “Why are you crying?”

“I’m not crying. I’m okay.” Suho assures him, smiling even as a fresh wave of tears spill from his beautiful eyes. “I’m fine, don’t worry about me, okay? I’m fine.”

“No you’re not.” Kyungsoo thumbs at the wet skin gently, trying to catch all the wayward drops of salty tears as they fall. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Suho stays silent for a while, just smiling at him through watery eyes as he cards through his hair with the gentlest of touches. Kyungsoo waits patiently, doesn’t prompt him to answer even as his arm drops back down to his side because he’s too tired. Eventually the superhero just moves and buries his face on Kyungsoo’s hair, weeping quietly. His shoulders shake, the hand in Kyungsoo’s even more so, and for once Suho looks so small, so weak.

“I thought I lost you,” He says softly, brokenly. “When we arrived, I thought I was too late. I thought I couldn’t protect you on the moment you needed me most. I thought I failed you.”

“But you didn’t,” Kyungsoo replies soothingly as he squeezes his hand reassuringly. “You came just in time. You saved me.”

“But I let you get kidnapped!” Suho argues, the anger at his own shortcomings palpable in his tone. “I let you become bait, I didn’t protect you enough from them.”

“Suho, I’m just one person in the entire city.” He chides gently. “You can’t always protect me, and that’s okay. You’re the nation’s superhero, not my bodyguard. You come through when it matters, and that’s what’s important.”

“What good is a safe city if it doesn’t have you,” The superhero mumbles almost inaudibly, but Kyungsoo somehow catches his words and warmth spreads all over his entire being.

“You do know that being cheesy won’t save you from my questions, right?” Kyungsoo teases, even as his cheeks burn and his heart thumps loudly in his chest and the butterflies in his stomach throw an impromptu Zumba session.

Suho chuckles before shifting so he’s leaning against the headboard, gently guiding Kyungsoo’s head to rest against his side. “Seeing as keeping you in the dark still got you in trouble, fine. I’ll try to answer most of them,” He says, his hand continuing to card through Kyungsoo’s hair gently. It’s calming, especially after such a traumatic night. “I can’t promise to answer everything, though. Some are highly confidential info that even I don’t know the full story to.”

“That’s okay.” Kyungsoo snuggles a little closer to the superhero, relishing in the strong, warm presence beside him. “Okay, first off: who were those people that kidnapped me, exactly?”

“They’re the Red Force. Think of them like the mother gang of all gangs in Korea, composed of the most powerful mafia families,” Suho explains. “Each family handles a specific branch, so to speak. For example, the Jung family handles sex trafficking, while the Han family is in charge of firearms. The Red Force is headed by the Lee family, with its patriarch and overall Korea mafia leader a distant relative of the late royal family.”

“For real? But isn’t the line of the royal family dead?” He asks, bewildered.

“To the public, yes. If I remember correctly, the Lee patriarch hailed from a hidden stepfamily.” Suho answers. “The point though is they’re very powerful, and they have connections both in the government and abroad. That’s why the mafia scene in Korea is still going strong, but just hidden to the public so as it can continue to operate.”

“Sheesh. No wonder you told me the lesser I know, the better.” Kyungsoo shakes his head slightly. “So why did they kidnap me, then? Am I not part of the public that is supposed to be in the dark?”

“Well, we kind of pissed the Red Force off. Badly, and also accidentally.” Suho chuckles sheepishly. “My colleagues and I managed to crash their drug cartel’s higher ups’ meeting while chasing a group of robbers. The robbers ran inside an abandoned building, and we accidentally knocked over the wrong door. We ended up capturing their kingpin and turning over their best drug dealers to the police.” 

“And the robbers?”

“Ah, the police found them gaping at the sheer amount of high quality drugs while they were escaping. Not sure if they were planning to get some, or they were just fascinated at the huge sacks of cocaine.” Suho snorts. “Anyway, we unwittingly stopped a huge drug operation, and so the Red Force isn’t too happy with us.”

“And me, it seems.” Kyungsoo points out.

“Yes, well. I think they were targeting people we’ve interacted before.” The superhero sighs quietly. “My colleague’s roommate almost got kidnapped, too. Said someone tried to stuff him in a van two nights ago, but he whooped him with his wushu stick.”

“Ouch. Should I start learning martial arts, then?” He jokes. “Maybe judo?”

“It’s okay, I can do the fighting for the both of us.” Suho laughs. “Just keep out of sketchy alleyways and you’ll be fine.”

Kyungsoo wants to point out that his kidnappers traced him inside campus, but he decides against it. Suho already feels bad enough as it is. “So you have fellow superheroes? Like the Avengers?” He asks instead.

“Yeah, except we have powers and not super robots,” Suho says. “We’re called EXO, and we’re assigned to protect Seoul. We’re part of a worldwide group called SM—kind of like SHIELD, but less problematic and with more government support. We partner with Interpol and all that, so we’re not some rogue group of supers.”

“And you each have superpowers?” He vaguely remembers one of them wielding ropes of fire like nunchucks, and another making chairs fly without touching them. “What’s your superpower then? Super strength?”

“All of us have super strength and the ability to fly. My main power is water.” Suho untangles their intertwined hands and extends his free hand towards the basin, flicking his wrist up. Kyungsoo yelps in surprise as the water shoots up from the basin to form a perfect sphere of water suspended in air. Suho waves his hand around, and the water follows his movements gracefully. “I can control water and most kinds of liquid. I can freeze it too.” He closes his fist, and the water promptly solidifies into a huge chunk of ice.

Kyungsoo gapes at him for a few beats, too much in awe to speak, and in his daze he blurts out, “You’re like a Waterbender?”

Suho laughs out loud, so hard that he drops the chunk of ice with a loud thunk. “I was thinking along the lines of Percy Jackson, but okay, the Avatar universe works, too,” He says in between giggles. “I haven’t tried bloodbending, but yeah, pretty much. I don’t bust it out as often as the other supers, especially when I’m just patrolling in the city, but when the situation arises it can be pretty handy. Easy cleanup, too.”

“Of course, because cleanliness is the biggest priority after every operation.” Kyungsoo quips, but his sass is mitigated by a huge yawn that he belatedly stifles behind a hand. Suho’s warmth and the gentle fingers playing with hair, combined with his exhaustion from earlier, is making him extremely drowsy, and even after the latter’s short but entertaining water show his eyelids feel heavy, fluttering closed from time to time without him realizing it. Suho notices, as he always does, and he chuckles as he passes a hand over Kyungsoo’s tired eyes to close them.

“Go to sleep, you’ve had a long day,” The superhero murmurs gently. “I’ll just be here.”

Kyungsoo wants to argue, wants to continue talking to Suho about EXO and mafia gangs and what kind of books he likes, but he is _really_ drained, so he concedes and shifts closer instead. “Stay over for breakfast tomorrow,” He mumbles, throwing an arm around the latter’s torso to keep him close. “I’ll make pancakes or something. Don’t leave early.” _Don’t leave me alone, again_.

“Okay. Now go sleep.” Suho leans down to kiss the top of his head softly. “I’ll be here when you wake up, okay?”

“You better,” Kyungsoo mutters, and the last thing he hears is Suho chuckling as he finally succumbs to the blissful peace of unconsciousness.

 

(When he wakes up much, much later, his face is pressed close to Suho’s collar, the superhero holding him securely against his chest. He’s still fast asleep, snoring softly, but when Kyungsoo shifts he jolts awake and blinks sleepily at the clock on the bedside table.

“Oh no, I overslept,” Suho mumbles, his voice rough and low that sends shivers down Kyungsoo’s spine. “Shit, sorry, I have to go.”

“Business meeting?” He asks sleepily, but he doesn’t budge. To be fair, Suho doesn’t, so it doesn’t seem _that_ urgent.

“I wish. Uncool alter ego has class in...half an hour. A major one, on top of that. I can’t cut.” Suho yawns hugely, but despite his valid excuse—and quite urgent appointment—he burrows further under the covers, burying his face in Kyungsoo’s hair once more. “But I want pancakes. Is breakfast a valid excuse to miss class?”

“No.” Kyungsoo pinches his side, chuckling fondly. “I’ll make you some next time. Go to class.”

Suho sighs very deeply, but he obediently untangles himself from Kyungsoo’s octopus limbs anyway. “Breakfast for dinner later?” He asks hopefully as he replaces his empty space with a pillow. “I’ll drop by around eight?”

“Mmkay,” Kyungsoo mumbles, burying his face on the pillow; it smells like incense and some sort of fruity shampoo. “See you later.”

“See you. Good night, Soo-yah.” Suho bends down and kisses his forehead gently. Kyungsoo smiles to himself and lets sleep consume him again just as the door closes.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kyungsoo takes the entire weekend off to rest, because even if Suho tells him another superhero healed him using superpowers, he still feels weak and beat up. He decides against informing his friends, knowing they’ll all worry and rush to his apartment to ask questions. He considers telling Junmyeon when the latter texts him, but he remembers that Junmyeon worries more than his three friends combined, so he edits his reply to a vaguer one instead.

Chanyeol surprises him and picks him up from his apartment the following Monday morning, Loey clanking happily after a trip to the shop for a fresh paint job, and they drive to the infirmary for one last check-up before they go to their noontime lecture. After class, the pair walks to their usual spot near the field to meet up with Baekhyun and Jongdae, who race each other to hug Kyungsoo with amusingly harmonizing screams. 

“What the hell was that, Kyungsoo?” Baekhyun whacks him on the arm before hugging him again. “Getting yourself kidnapped and almost killed? And not telling us about it? Do you want us to worry to death?”

“We really can’t leave you alone, honestly.” Jongdae huffs, but he shoves Baekhyun aside and hugs him too anyway. “Noted, we’ll hire bodyguards for you ASAP.”

“What do you mean, ‘we?’ I’m broke, man.” Chanyeol interrupts, extracting Kyungsoo from the hug monsters. “But yeah, Kyungsoo, if Junmyeon didn’t text us, we wouldn’t even know.”

“Is that why you picked me up today?” Kyungsoo asks as they take a seat in their usual table. “I was surprised to see Loey outside earlier.”

“Yeah. Junmyeon asked me to drive you to school because he has a mid-morning meeting and he can’t go back to pick you up,” Chanyeol says. “Good thing I got Loey back this morning huh?"

Odd. Junmyeon was the one who informed his friends? “What did he tell you?”

“Uh, everything?” Chanyeol frowns.

“That you got kidnapped here in campus, got tied up, beaten, and held at gunpoint,” Jongdae adds.

“By some freaking goons like a noir movie!” Baekhyun finishes, and the three all nod at the same time. “And the finer details of them all, of course.”

“...Huh.” Kyungsoo blinks, taken aback. He only told Junmyeon that he wasn’t feeling well that’s why he wasn’t going to class, but aside from that, Kyungsoo didn’t tell him anything. Furthermore, Suho told him that the incident was marked sensitive in public files, and that SM enforced a news blackout about the situation. How does he know about that night? “Did he...tell you how he got the news?”

“Well—“ Chanyeol trails off when he spots someone behind them, and he waves cheerfully. “Oh, there he is, why don’t you ask Junmyeon instead?” 

Kyungsoo turns around to see Junmyeon squinting at them, pushing up his glasses. Once he recognizes them, he all but breaks out into a run and pulls Kyungsoo up into a fierce hug, arms tight around his waist like he’s holding on for dear life.

“Good God, Doh Kyungsoo, don’t scare me like that,” He says, voice muffled against Kyungsoo’s collar, but the relief is palpable in his tone. “God, I thought—when I got the news— _Christ_ , Kyungsoo, I almost thought y-you—“

“Okay okay, breathe, Junmyeon, it’s okay, I’m okay.” Kyungsoo rubs his back reassuringly, hoping his warm touch can help ground the latter and remind him that he’s all right, relatively unscathed, but alive and well.

“Are you, really? Were you hurt? Are you okay now?” Junmyeon releases him to cradle his face concernedly, eyebrows knitted together in barely concealed worry as he inspects Kyungsoo for any injuries. As if he’ll still have gaping wounds four days after. “Does anything still hurt? Do you want me to drive you to the infirmary? We should, you should go, let’s get you checked, come on, I’ll get my car—“

Kyungsoo catches both of his wrists in his hands and stills them, making the latter stop his mothering and look up at him. His hands are shaking, and his eyes are shiny with unshed tears. “Junmyeon, _breathe_ ,” He says, and Junmyeon obediently inhales raggedly before exhaling in one long, almost tired breath. “It’s okay, I’m okay. I rested most of the body ache off, and all my wounds and bruises are almost healed. I’m fine.” 

“Okay, but—the infirmary—my car is nearby, let’s go and just make sure, okay?“ Junmyeon struggles against his hold, but Kyungsoo pulls him back and steadies him.

“Chanyeol drove me there earlier.” Junmyeon glances at the taller, who flashes him a grin and a thumbs up. “Dr. Jung gave me a scar ointment for the deeper cuts, which are fine and already scabbing, but aside from that he cleared me. I’m _fine_ , Junmyeon. You can breathe now.”

Junmyeon stares at him for a while, processing all that information, and sighs before sagging against Kyungsoo’s side in visible relief. “Okay,” He mumbles tiredly, and all four of them chuckle at his sudden drop of energy as Kyungsoo helps him sit on the bench. “I just—when I found out, my brain just went at the worst scenario possible, and—I don’t know, I’m just really glad you’re okay.”

“I am. Don’t worry.” Kyungsoo squeezes his wrists reassuringly. “Although I just ask, how did you know what happened?

“Junmyeon has an uncle in the police force,” Jongdae explains before Junmyeon could even answer–which he doesn’t seem like he has plans to, as seen in the way his eyes are closed as he leans on Kyungsoo’s shoulder. “He informed him because he saw our school in your profile, and figured he knew you.”

“Oh.” So much for being hush-hush, but he figures the uncle meant well. “Well, you can tell him I’m fine, Suho took care of me.”

“Who?” Baekhyun asks, but Chanyeol beats him to it and slams his hand on the table.

“Your superhero friend! He really does come through!” The music major exclaims. Did he come to rescue you, too?”

“Yeah, he did. He saved and protected me.” Kyungsoo smiles at the thought. “Just like he always does, and—“

Everyone jumps when Junmyeon abruptly stands up, pushing the bench back with the impact. He shakes off Kyungsoo’s hold and grabs his backpack. “I—I have to go,” He says, and without another word he runs away. Odd. Kyungsoo moves to follow him, but a warm hand shoots up and holds him by the arm to stop him.

“Let him be,” Jongdae says quietly, looking uncharacteristically somber. “He...he’s in shock. Still shaken up with your situation. He’s been jittery all morning. Give him time.”

Kyungsoo wants to ask since when did Jongdae become Junmyeon’s best friend, but he decides against it as he watches the small speck of navy blue disappear into the crowd with a small, confused frown. What’s up with Junmyeon today? Why did he flee at the sound of Suho’s voice? Chanyeol didn’t even insinuate anything about Kyungsoo crush on the superhero, if somehow Junmyeon got jealous, so what is his reason for acting like that? Is what Jongdae said all true, that he’s just a mess because of the panic? Or is Junmyeon hiding something that he should know about?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Junmyeon doesn’t talk to him for the rest of the day, doesn’t even speak much even when he picks Kyungsoo up from his last class and insists on driving him home. He doesn’t address his extremely odd behavior earlier that afternoon and just lets the radio fill in the silence while Kyungsoo watches the traffic from his window. He does walk him to his door, but he only bids him good night with a small smile instead of his usual hug and takes the stairs up his floor instead of going back to use the lift. He drives Kyungsoo again to school and back home, but he rarely talks. Gone is the usual bubbly, smiley Junmyeon who’d probably make his third pun in an hour, replaced by a Junmyeon who is almost always frowning or worrying his bottom lip, who looks extremely troubled and who often zones out deep in thought while the rest of them chat away. It concerns Kyungsoo, but any attempts of asking him about it results in the latter just putting on his fakest smile and assuring him that “everything is fine, Kyungsoo, don’t worry about me.” But immediately after Kyungsoo nods and turns away Junmyeon shifts back to furrowing his brows and fidgeting and looking very troubled, and it’s difficult not to worry at all.

Even now, during an impromptu movie night at Junmyeon’s apartment (orchestrated by Baekhyun, his irresistible charm, and Junmyeon being too out of it to say no), the latter is staring blankly at a wall, gnawing on a pizza crust absently. Kyungsoo nudges him with his shoulder, and Junmyeon almost jumps a foot in the air as if they’re watching a horror movie and not The Princess and the Frog.

“You okay?” He whispers, peering at Junmyeon’s pale face.

“Y-yeah. I just need a drink, I think.” Junmyeon smiles weakly at him before chucking his crust on the almost empty pizza box and making a beeline for his kitchen. Kyungsoo follows him with his gaze before sighing and reaching for another slice of pizza. He hopes Junmyeon is okay.

“I think I need a drink too. Anyone wants one?” Jongdae asks, and Baekhyun and Chanyeol both shush him simultaneously, too engrossed in the film. Kyungsoo shakes his head, and Jongdae shrugs at all of them before moving to the kitchen. Maybe Jongdae can talk some sense into Junmyeon. Hopefully. 

Halfway into the film, when Tiana and Naveen are cutely bickering over tiny gumbo, Kyungsoo notices that one, he has been sipping on melted ice rather than root beer for a while now, and two, the pair hasn’t come back yet. Hmm. Figuring he’ll get a drink refill _and_ call the two back to the movie, he stands up and pads towards the kitchen, opening his mouth to call for—

“Are you fucking kidding me, Junmyeon?”

Kyungsoo jumps back and hides behind the fancy divider separating the kitchen from the living area. Jongdae is whisper-screeching, which is usually not a good thing. Are they fighting? He clutches his glass close to his chest and strains to hear the rest of the conversation.

“I’m not. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. I have a telephone meeting with the head agent in New York tomorrow.”

A hand slams on the table. “Junmyeon, this is insane. You can’t do this.”

A deep, tired sigh. “Dae, they’re catching up to me. They managed to trace him and capture him. It’s the only way to protect him—I _have_ to do this.” Who are they talking about?

“I thought you just expedited his paperwork?” Another table slam. “Junmyeon, _no_. You can’t leave, you’re EXO’s leader.”

“I have to. It’s the only way to keep him safe and out of trouble. Kris can take over.”

“No! If you leave, his protection might be revoked.” Kyungsoo stifles a gasp behind his hand. Junmyeon is leaving? Where is he going?

“It won’t, I fixed a clause in the coverage section of his paperwork. And even if I leave the area, he’ll still be protected. Basic facet of the protection program, Dae. You should know this.” Wait, Jongdae knows EXO? How does he know about them?

“Don’t turn this into a lecture.” Another table slam. Jongdae has a flair for theatrics. “Junmyeon, there has to be another way. Leaving is not the answer.”

“Then pray tell, Jongdae, what _is_ the answer?” A loud thunk, almost like a mug being put down. Junmyeon’s voice raises in anger and barely concealed frustration, and Kyungsoo peeks from his hiding spot to see if things are okay-ish. Junmyeon is standing toe-to-toe with Jongdae, shoulders square and face hard, and even if they’re the same height Junmyeon looks intimidating. “What can help keep Kyungsoo away from harm aside from me distancing myself? Because the last time I checked, telling him I’m Suho isn’t a viable option—“

 _Crash_.

Both men turn in horror to see Kyungsoo frozen on the doorway, glass shattered at his feet. Suho and Junmyeon...are the same person. They’re one and the same, and Kyungsoo doesn’t know who he talked to, who he shared food with, who he fucking fell in love with. Has Junmyeon—or Suho?—been putting up a façade all this time? Did Kyungsoo fall for an illusion? Was everything a ploy, a buildup for Junmyeon’s departure to New York? Is Seoul just a side trip with an inconvenient baggage? Is he even genuine with his words, his smiles, his touches, his tears? Who is this man in front of Kyungsoo? All his doubts about Junmyeon and Suho being one and the same are suddenly confirmed, and the sheer amount of information suddenly makes so much sense, yet also so little. Everything finally falls into place, on why Junmyeon and Suho are never in two places at once or why they recycle jokes or why they’re so damn similar, yet the main question remains: who is the real Junmyeon? Was Kyungsoo ever privy to his genuine self, or was everything a front?

“Kyungsoo...” Junmyeon steps towards him, reaching out tentatively, but Kyungsoo recoils and steps back.

“Get away from me,” He says shakily, and before the two could react he turns and runs out of Junmyeon’s apartment. He doesn’t even bother taking the lift and bolts down the stairs, taking two at a time and ignoring Junmyeon’s calls that echo from the hallway. Hot tears blur his vision and he almost skips a step, but he recovers and all but gallops to the fourth floor, wiping the tears angrily with the cuff of his sweater as he runs. He hurriedly skids to a stop in front of his apartment, unlocks it, and all but throws himself inside the solace of his home. He locks it, triple-locks it even and he props up a dining chair to weigh down so no one can get in. Only when he efficiently locks himself in does Kyungsoo curl up in his bed and cry his heart out.

 

(Later that night, Junmyeon comes by and knocks at his door. “Kyungsoo, I know you’re mad, but please let me explain,” He says pleadingly, voice wobbly and thick. He seems to be crying. “Kyungsoo, I just want to make you understand so you won’t feel hurt. Please talk to me. I’m sorry.” He apologizes over and over until he leaves, soft sobbing fading away as he presumably leaves for his own apartment.

Kyungsoo doesn’t open the door, just curls up on the dining chair blocking the way and leans his head on his door, tears silently running down his face as he listens to Junmyeon attempt to salvage things. He badly wants to open the door, to wipe off his tears and hug him until he smiles, but he doesn’t know if the real Junmyeon wants that. He doesn’t even know if there was a real Junmyeon.

So he doesn’t.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"You do know you're _kind of_ overreacting right?"

Kyungsoo reaches for one of his decorative pillows to chuck at Jongdae's face, but Chanyeol grabs his arm and rubs it placatingly, holding him tighter. "It's okay, don't mind him," The taller hums soothingly. He has Kyungsoo sprawled all over his lap in an ultra rare bout of clinginess, a quite warm pile of limbs on Kyungsoo's sofa, while Jongdae shakes his head at them from his spot on the floor. Baekhyun is still in class, but he promises that he'll be over soon for Operation: Cheer Kyungsoo Up with more food and booze. It's actually a miracle how they were even able to get in Kyungsoo's apartment, seeing as he locked himself in, but Chanyeol remembered he had a spare key from the first and only time Kyungsoo got shitfaced drunk and he had to bring him home. 

"Okay, fine, that wasn't the best phrasing." Jongdae concedes, reaching for another slice of pizza, "But Kyungsoo, isn't this a little too much? Shutting him out of your life without any explanation just because he hid a secret from you?"

"He tricked me, Jongdae," Kyungsoo says tiredly, fists curled up against Chanyeol's oversized sweater. "He made me believe I can trust him. _Twice_. Guess not."

"He was protecting you!" Jongdae shoots back. "He can't yell out he's Suho to everyone now, can he? He has to make sure that his identity is only known to a few."

"And _I_ can't keep his secret?" He grits out angrily. "Did I not prove myself worthy of his trust? After all our heart-to-hearts, our late night conversations about life, I am still unworthy of his trust?"

"Kyungsoo..." Chanyeol tries to pipe up, but Kyungsoo shakes his head and powers on, fighting back the tears.

"I was there when he was beat up during a really dangerous mission, I patched him up and nursed him back to health. I was there when he needed time to decompress after stressful cases, I brewed him tea and let him talk his stress out. I was there when he needed a friend, because double major life is hard and he sometimes crumbles under the extreme pressure he was in. I was his _friend_ , and I thought we had something going on. A deep connection, whether platonic or romantic. Did I not deserve at least to know the truth?" A wayward tear escapes from the corner of his eye, and he wipes it angrily with the back of his hand. "Whether as Suho or as Junmyeon, he showered me with affection and gentleness, he made me feel special and secured and appreciated and loved. I _liked_ him, I liked Suho and I also liked Junmyeon, and a few weeks ago I was lamenting how it's unfair for the both of them that I have to choose someone. And then I find out that he wasn't showing me who he really was? That I fell in love with a façade? Tell me, Jongdae, am I still overreacting when I have been made a fool all this time?"

Chanyeol pats his cheeks with the cuffs of his sweaters glumly, and only then does Kyungsoo realize that he is now full-on crying. He sniffs and buries his blotchy face in his best friend's chest, seeking solace in the soft fabric and the feeling of Chanyeol's big hands running across his back. He hears a sigh before a warm weight settles on top of him as thin arms snake around his side in a comforting hug.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry, I invalidated your suffering. I didn't know you felt that deeply for Junmyeon," Jongdae says gently, nuzzling his cheek against Kyungsoo's shoulder. "I understand you don't want to see him first, but I really do think you have to listen to his side so you can understand him too. Can you at least listen to me?"

"No." Kyungsoo huffs stubbornly, but Chanyeol pinches him (gently, because Chanyeol is the epitome of a gentle giant) on the side and he relents. "Okay. Fine. But only because it's you."

"Thank you." Jongdae squeezes him briefly before sitting up to give him some breathing room. Kyungsoo shifts so he’s facing him, Chanyeol’s arms still caging him securely, but he feels like he’ll be back to a sobbing mess in a few moments.

“Junmyeon—Suho, rather, is the leader of EXO, the group of superheroes assigned in Korea. As leader, he’s in charge mostly of bigger cases. Mostly the ones related to the Korean mafia, and the...extraterrestrial ones.” Jongdae begins. “He doesn’t need to patrol the city, he doesn’t have to deal with petty crimes. Actually, EXO really doesn’t deal with them; SM’s trainees do. If they chance a petty crime while on duty, fine. But actively guarding the city for thieves and snatchers? Nah. That’s the police’s job, not something a bunch of superheroes should waste their powers on.

“The reason why Junmyeon is somehow always there to save you is because he goes out of his way to protect you. He can easily send the trainees—interns, if you will—to gather information about the mafia, but he joins them so he can do his job _and_ look out for you at the same time. That’s why he was able to save you from petty thieves holding you at gun slash knifepoint. That’s why he can visit you ‘after duty’ so often. That’s why he can walk you home every day—because he literally has nothing to do but to pore over case files and plan operations. He’s the brains of the group, one of the people who call the shots and approve each move of the _whole_ Korean branch of SM, but he still takes time to do the measly patrol work. For _you_. 

“I know what you’ll tell me: why didn’t he tell me then? It’s not because he doesn’t want to, but it’s because he _can’t_. SM cooperates with governments for top-secret cases, sometimes so confidential that even Interpol doesn’t know about them. They tackle the mafia, protect hidden royal families, guard almost invisible yet extremely rich and powerful countries...they even fight aliens, for God’s sakes. Do people know that EXO exists? Yes, some. But most of the public doesn’t, mainly because SM does its job of cloaking it and its members well. Association with SM means putting your entire bloodline at risk, and it is highly imperative that their agents’ true identities are completely kept separate from their public façades, especially for superheroes and field agents. As much as he wants to tell you, Junmyeon can’t afford to put you in too much risk. Already hanging out with you as Suho put you on enemies’ watch lists. If you knew about him and SM, things will get worse." 

“But why do _you_ know about him and about EXO? Why do you know so much about SM?” Kyungsoo interrupts, tone a mix of accusing and curious. “Why are you privy to such sensitive information that you say is imperative to be hidden from the public?”

In lieu of an answer, Jongdae holds out his hand and motions for them to take it. Chanyeol and Kyungsoo reach out at the same time, and both jolt away in unison with twin yelps of pain as pinpricks of static attack them. They watch with equally wide eyes as Jongdae’s fingers is covered with thin bolts of lightning, dancing around his skin like a restless, stormy sky.

“It’s because my family is a family of supers. I have the power of thunder and lightning.” Jongdae smiles at them, as if his hand isn’t covered with electricity right now. “My brother is a member of EXO, and my parents both work in SM. Crime fighting isn’t my thing so I am currently training to be a diplomat for our international branches, thus the international studies degree.” 

“And you never told us?” Chanyeol asks incredulously.

“Were you not listening? I couldn’t tell you before because that’ll put you in grave danger.” Jongdae rolls his eyes. “The only reason I can talk to you about it now is because this place is secured, and Kyungsoo is now under SM’s protection.”

“What? But I’m not a super.” Kyungsoo frowns. “Is it because I got kidnapped?”

“Yes and no. Yes because we think you’ll be targeted again, and no, not necessarily.” Jongdae shakes his head, smiling ruefully at him. “Junmyeon listed you under his dependents. Families of superheroes and agents are protected by SM, even if they are unaware of their association with an SM agent. Civilians can be put under this protection program, but it can take years and tons of paperwork. Junmyeon being an EXO superhero helped expedite the process, but it was still a tedious one nonetheless. Did you know he wasn’t the one who flew you back to your apartment? He asked my brother Kai to teleport you there with another agent, a Healer, before he flew to HQ to demand the immediate approval of your protection program application. I have never seen him so livid, even the higher ups were terrified. If you’d see your paperwork, most of the signatures were shaky." 

Earlier, he had a lot of choice words for the superhero, but now Kyungsoo is just left speechless. Junmyeon really did that? For him?

“He loves you a lot,” Jongdae says gently, taking his hands and squeezing them. “I know you’re mad, and I know you need time to process everything, but don’t forget that, okay? He was just looking out for you.”

Kyungsoo tries his best to swallow the lump in his throat, but his eyes well up with tears anyway. Everything is now falling into place, why Junmyeon had to do all those things, like keep his two lives separate and cover up most things from him and everything else, and now that he finally, finally understands, he hates himself even more for lashing out when all Junmyeon is doing is protect him. Chanyeol pats his cheeks dry with his sweatshirt cuff, and Kyungsoo belatedly realizes that he’s crying, again. He turns once more to hide in the soft fabric and his best friend’s arms, and when he feels Jongdae drape himself on top of him as an added reassurance, he just sobs harder, crying all the regret and heartbreak and hurt away.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Junmyeon avoids him for the rest of the week, and the week after that. He stops offering to drive Kyungsoo to and from school (but he does employ Chanyeol, who refuses to reveal what Junmyeon bribed him with), he stops calling him to accompany him to lunch, he stops waiting for Kyungsoo outside his classroom to eat. He avoids the other three too: he doesn't answer to anyone's messages, he sits far away from Jongdae in their shared classes, and he stops joining them in their breaks. Even Jongdae couldn't get a hold of him when he goes at SM's HQ.

"Even my brother couldn't get a hold of him, and they're teammates," The agent says mournfully when Kyungsoo asks him. "Kai said he shows up to training and meetings but leaves immediately after." 

Kyungsoo wants to talk to him, wants to knock on his apartment door, wants to call him or text him or wait for him outside the liberal arts building, wants to surprise him outside his classroom and take him to dinner like Junmyeon does, but he doesn't know if he is welcome, if he is allowed to, if Junmyeon wants to see him. As much as Junmyeon hurt him, Kyungsoo also hurt him back, doubled and gave back the hurt that he experienced even though Junmyeon was only looking out for him. He knows that he deserves this silent treatment, this cold shoulder, being left alone. He deserves to suffer and stew in guilt. But despite all that, he wants to talk to Junmyeon, to see him and hug him and tell him that he understands now everything, that he is grateful for everything, that he is truly, truly sorry, even for one last time. If Junmyeon has to leave for New York, if Junmyeon wants to end their friendship and cut off all ties with him, if Junmyeon wants to forget he ever existed, fine. He'll accept it. But he just wants one last chance to thank him, to apologize, and maybe even tell him he loves him, because Junmyeon deserves that, at the very least.

He sighs deeply and stares at the mug of now cold tea cradled in his hands, hoping that he’ll find some answers in the murky brown liquid. He’s sulking at the rooftop, the wind ruffling his hair and the chill of the late night seeping through his thin grey sweater. Misery loves company, yes, but misery also likes a pretty good setting for some good old brooding. All that’s missing is a dramatic background music, slow-mo panning and multiple angles of his dramatic, soulful stares at the night sky, and washed out flashbacks of his happier past superimposed in his somber profile, and he can pass off as a lead in a drama. Except he doesn’t have a partner, because he was dumb enough to chase him away and now it’s too late for him to make amends. Serves him right for taking things for granted, he thinks bitterly as he curls up on himself to stave off a particularly strong gust of wind, and for not being brave enough to fix things. It’s not like second chances fall out of the sky or anything—

 _Thump_.

Kyungsoo jumps and turns to see a man tumble to the ground a few feet away from him with a loud groan. He has windswept brown hair and an awful red and blue spandex suit with a stylized S in the middle, his red cape spread below him like a puddle, and his gentle brown eyes crinkle in annoyance as he rubs the small of his back. It’s Suho—no, _Junmyeon_ , the love of his life that (briefly) disappeared from his life (sort of, let him and his hyperboles be). And he just dropped out of the freaking sky.

Shitty life scriptwriter, you’ve outdone yourself today.

“Junmyeon!” Kyungsoo puts down his mug on the ledge and rushes to the superhero, kneeling beside him. “Are you all right? What happened?”

“I was flying back from HQ, and the wind blew me off-course.” Junmyeon frowns, and the explanation is so silly yet so Junmyeon at the same time that Kyungsoo bursts into giggles, covering his face with his hands and shaking his head as his shoulders shake with laughter.

“You’ve had better entrances,” He says amusedly. “Gotta give this a 4/10.”

“Air resistance is a vicious enemy, and I have come to battle unprepared.” Junmyeon answers with mock seriousness as he sits up, and Kyungsoo chuckles again. The superhero smiles at him, the corners wry, almost sad. “Hey, Kyungsoo.”

“Hi.” Kyungsoo had imagined multiple scenarios on how he’ll react when Junmyeon finally shows himself again, some with tears and some tinged with anger, some with Junmyeon leaving and some with Junmyeon staying, and even one where they never meet again (and one that ends with a kiss), but this, this is not one of them: sitting beside each other in their dusty rooftop on a cold night, a mug of half-finished tea on the ledge too far away and nothing but spandex and flimsy cotton keeping them warm, punctuated by awful jokes and serendipitously good timing and a smile that is sad around the edges, but still manages to be brighter than the moonlight glowing on them. But he takes it anyway, takes the chance and runs with it, and breaks the silence by blurting out the first thought that pops into his mind: “Your hair is down.”

And it is. Suho often has his hair swept up perfectly, but today Junmyeon’s fringe is falling messily on his forehead. The superhero laughs and runs a hand through it rather self-consciously. “Yeah, I...wanted to show both sides of me at the same time tonight. That Junmyeon _is_ Suho, and vice versa. But I guess the symbolism didn’t follow through...”

“It kind of did,” Kyungsoo replies. “But I also kind of figured that out already for myself. With the help of Jongdae, of course.”

Junmyeon’s shoulders slump visibly, and he looks away. “So he _did_ tell you everything, huh,” He says quietly, all the playfulness from earlier gone. “If you’re still mad, I’ll understand—“ 

“I’m not.” Kyungsoo cuts him off, and Junmyeon looks up at him in surprise. “I’m not mad at you. Not anymore.”

“No?” Junmyeon asks, and he looks so doubtful that Kyungsoo’s heart aches. He really did hurt him a lot, to the point that he couldn’t believe his words. Kyungsoo doesn’t deserve him.

“Well, I’m still kind of mad at you for avoiding me for two whole weeks and making me worry,” He says. “But for everything else...no.”

“I thought you didn’t want to see me,” Junmyeon replies. “I thought...I thought you didn’t want to be associated with me in any way ever again.”

“No, I thought you didn’t want to see _me!_ ” Kyungsoo counters. “I thought you left me for New York.”

“Never.” Junmyeon shakes his head firmly, almost like Kyungsoo offended him with that statement. “I can never leave you, Kyungsoo. I barely finished my transferral paperwork, because I couldn’t deal with the thought of being a thousand miles away, of not being able to be there for you when you need me. I figured that I can stay in Korea and watch you from afar, help you anonymously and make sure you’re okay. And that’ll be enough for me.” 

Warmth and adoration and _love_ fills his entire being at Junmyeon’s words, at the sincerity in his eyes and the earnest lilt of his gentle voice, and Kyungsoo wonders what he has done to deserve this. “Why me, Junmyeon?” He asks softly. “Of all people, why me?”

Junmyeon smiles, a genuinely happy one this time, and reaches for his cold, clammy hand a little hesitantly. Kyungsoo lets him. “It was during freshman year, I think. I was in the music building enrolling for an elective in composing, and on my way to the office I passed by a practice room with the door ajar. I heard the most beautiful voice I have ever heard in my entire existence, and in my awe I dropped all my papers on the floor.” He chuckles as his thumb drew lazy circles at the back of Kyungsoo’s hand. “I was going to go in and compliment you, but I saw a mutual friend and I was whisked away. I thought it was the first and last time I’ll hear it.

“End of the first semester. I finished my exam early, and walked along the field to relax a little before going to a friend’s rager. As I passed by, someone busted out a guitar, and two people started harmonizing to some Jason Mraz song. You didn’t join them, but when they both stopped to rest on the adlibs you started singing the next verse. It was the voice from the practice room, and when I looked up it was a scene straight out of a movie: you, sitting alone on the bench, bathed in sunlight that made your profile glow, singing softly but soulfully, like it’s you who wrote the words. It was right there and then that I fell in love with you—or at least, your voice.

“Second semester. I got to know Jongdae, one of the two harmonizers, and one day he showed me a group photo of the four of you in a house party. Your smile wasn’t as wide, your eyes not as mirthful, but there was something in you that draw me in, that made my heart skip. Jongdae fed me information that I gobbled up happily: you‘re Doh Kyungsoo, a music major, with a passion for cooking and his two dogs, who hates aegyo and chewing noises. Jongdae talks about you a lot, and I took in everything and filed them accordingly. I started seeing you as Kyungsoo, the dog father or Kyungsoo, the expert chef or even Kyungsoo, the secret softie rather than just Jongdae’s tinier music major friend. It’s like I knew you already, even though we never met, and to me, that was enough. To have a tiny crush from afar, but not close enough to form a bond. Or worse, alert the enemies. Basic training in SM Academy, of course. And I wasn’t going to fall for it—or at least that’s what I told myself. As Jongdae and I grew closer, my Kyungsoo knowledge files expanded further and further, and my tiny crush grew and grew. It didn’t help that Jongdae always dropped hints at you being single and that we’ll be a good match, because I started believing it and I had to constantly give myself a pep talk that you can’t date someone you haven’t even properly met, loser.

“One day, I was flying back to my apartment on my way back from a negotiation with the drug cartel when I saw you get held at gunpoint at the sketchy alleyway near our apartment complex. I flew in and saved you without a second thought, but when you talked to me I was so flustered at finally interacting with you that I flew away without telling you my name. My first interaction with my crush, who I grew to like because of a friend’s many anecdotes and the occasional suggestive remark, and it was in a dark, smelly alleyway? No, thanks. I flew away and resolved to never do human interaction again, because you will never want to interact with a dork like me. 

“Except you did. With each time I save you, you warm up to me more and more, and I felt like we truly were acquainted. You’d joke with me and tell me stories and listen to me, and I was happy. You kept Junmyeon at a distance, but with Suho you were comfortable, genuine. I made sure to put my best foot forward as Suho, anything to keep you by my side. It worked, and you became close to my superhero alter ego. It wasn’t the ideal situations, because I am Junmyeon first before being Suho, but I didn’t want to be selfish. As long as I am by your side, whether as my true self or as my superhero alter ego, I will be content with it.

“Except you became close to my true self, too. The awkwardness you had with my uncool side slowly thawed out, and you became comfortable with me as Junmyeon, too. Unlike Suho, Junmyeon doesn’t have a branding to stick to, so I showed everything else that Suho hid: my dad jokes, my funny facial reactions, my dorkiness. And you accepted them all, stayed by my side and weathered through all my flaws. It gave me hope, that maybe Junmyeon isn’t such a hopeless case after all. For once, my uncool side isn’t so uncool—except it can never rival Suho. I know you liked him more than Junmyeon, which is silly because we’re the same person, but Junmyeon is silly and clumsy and sometimes dumb, and Suho is strong and dependable and caring. And people don’t fall in love with the weak one, they fall in love with the strong hero who can help them in their dark days. But I became selfish, and tried to keep you close as both Junmyeon and Suho. My selfishness got you almost killed, just because I didn’t want to lose you, just because I wanted to seize every opportunity to be with you, no matter what, no matter who you see.”

Junmyeon takes a deep breath and squeezes his hand, as if he’s gathering strength from their intertwined fingers. “I know Jongdae explained the technical points about SM to you, so I’ll spare you the rehashed lecture. I will, however, say this: I hid my identity from you to protect you, even though I ended up jeopardizing your safety with my own selfishness. I only wanted to be with you, but instead I hurt you. And for that I am truly sorry. Love shouldn’t be selfish, but here I am, and I am terribly, terribly sorry. But Kyungsoo, believe me when I say that nothing wasn’t genuine in my actions, whether as Junmyeon or Suho. They were all from my heart, with the mask I put on the only difference. It all came from one dorky boy who somehow fell in love at first listen, who developed a secondhand crush from a babbly friend, who stupidly thought that you will like me if I continue to be your knight in shining armor like this is a bad romcom. Nothing was fake, nothing was staged. You don’t have to believe me, but if you were to just choose what to believe in, choose these three: I am Junmyeon. I am also Suho. And I am in love with you.”

Kyungsoo feels something hot roll down his cheeks, and he belatedly realizes that he is crying. His heart feels so full, his soul singing in happiness, and his entire being is filled with contentment. He had his doubts, but now they are all gone, disappeared into nothingness with just three promises. “You know,” He says, sniffling lightly. “You wasted a lot of words to say that you love me when you can just say it in three.”

“I wanted to make sure you understood me, fully and clearly this time. Actions spoke louder than words, but I couldn’t risk those words to be misinterpreted. Not this time,” Junmyeon replies. “And besides, I owed you a full explanation to everything. Jongdae helped with the boring parts, but he can never put into words what is in my heart.”

“Point taken.” Kyungsoo wipes his cheeks with the back of his hand, smiling slightly. “So how many words do I have to use to tell you that I love you, too?” 

“W-what?” Junmyeon’s jaw drops and his eyes turn wide with surprise as he processes Kyungsoo’s words. Even his grip slackens a little, but even with his comical expression Kyungsoo sees the hope in his eyes, hiding behind the disbelief and shock. “You...love me?”

“It’s kind of hard not to fall in love with you.” He shrugs, smile widening now even through his glassy eyes. “You never failed to care for me, to look out for me, to protect me. You always make sure I was safe and happy, you try your best to cheer me up when I’m down, you go out of your way to make my days brighter. You make me feel secure and carefree, like I could breathe easily without anything bothering me. You became my solace in days when it’s rough and my constant companion before and after each storm. You understand me and respect my decisions, even those that hurt you like when I shut you out. Tell me, Junmyeon, how can I not fall for you?”

Junmyeon gapes absently at him for a while before slowly saying, “You know, that’s also an awfully wordy way to say I love you back.” 

“I learned from the best.” Kyungsoo shrugs, grinning so widely now his cheeks hurt a little. “I love you, Junmyeon. Not just as Suho, not just as Junmyeon. I love you and your entire being, all your sides and strengths and flaws. I love you.”

And because actions speak louder than words, Junmyeon replies by surging forward and kissing him.

When Kyungsoo imagined his first kiss with Junmyeon, he imagined it to be someplace romantic or sentimental, with each moment building up to that moment staged and planned. They’ll reach out for each other at the same time, a hand buried in soft hair and another cupping a strong jaw as the other pair of arms circle the other’s waist, keeping them close in a picture perfect scene worthy of a cheesy chick flick. Not like this, both of them sprawled on the dirty rooftop, with Kyungsoo’s hands fisted on Junmyeon’s cape to help keep him from toppling over and Junmyeon’s own warm ones cradling his face like he’s some precious treasure. Kyungsoo’s cheeks are sticky from the tears and Junmyeon’s hair is now impossibly tangled and both their limbs slowly losing circulation, but he really, really couldn’t care right now, not when the only thing on his mind is the softness of Junmyeon’s lips and the tantalizing brush of his thumb that lovingly caresses his skin like a merchant admiring a yard of silk. 

They eventually part for air, and Kyungsoo opens his eyes to see Junmyeon looking just as disheveled and dazed as he is. His mouth is shiny and red, almost like the raspberries in his fruit bowl downstairs, and it’s so distracting that Kyungsoo almost leans back again just to check if they taste just as sweet.

“That was an ‘I love you too, by the way,” Junmyeon says, his voice rough around the edges in a way that makes Kyungsoo’s spine tingle. “In case it got lost in translation, again. I, um. Kind of ran out of words.”

Dork. Kyungsoo rolls his eyes and places a hand on Junmyeon’s nape, fumbling with the fine hairs at the edge. “Good,” He replies, and he pulls the latter back into another kiss, slower and sweeter and just filled with pure adoration that his heart stutters and the butterflies in his stomach dance to the latest EDM hit.

“Why do you taste like tea?” Junmyeon asks when they separate again for a much needed breathing break, and only then does Kyungsoo remember his now probably awful mug of tea on the ledge. Oops.

“Ah, I was drinking some earlier. I left it up there, I should get it before the wind knocks it onto some unsuspecting passerby.” Kyungsoo reluctantly untangles himself from Junmyeon and stands up to get it—

—only for the superhero to jump up and spin him around so they’re face to face, bodies pressed so close together that he can feel the warmth from Junmyeon’s skin even through his suit. Junmyeon is grinning at him, both mischievous and boyishly innocent at the same time, and Kyungsoo couldn’t help but wonder just how he became so lucky. And also what the hell is happening.

“And what are you planning this time?” Kyungsoo asks, reaching up to brush Junmyeon’s soft fringe away from his eyes.

“Continue kissing you, but this time, with a view,” Junmyeon says, laughing. “Also my legs are kind of dying already, so.”

“You’re a dork.” He snorts, flicking him on the forehead. Junmyeon catches his hand and stamps a kiss on his palm, holding it close to his cheek fondly. It make Kyungsoo absurdly soft, but the latter doesn’t have to know that.

“You love me.” Junmyeon answers, smile impossibly bright.

“I suppose.” Kyungsoo sighs, but the corners of his mouth twitch up anyway as Junmyeon leans in to kiss his smile.

As the old saying goes, all roads lead to Rome. But also, Rome wasn’t built in a day, so it might take some time to find one’s way back. There might be lots of roadblocks, a bit of detours, maybe a few potholes here and there. Finding Rome takes time, requires patience, and needs determination. But after all that’s done, after a long and tiring and maybe even confusing trip, one will sure to find their way back. And right now, nestled safely in Junmyeon’s arms, held closely and lovingly by the love of his life, Kyungsoo is sure he has reached his own Rome, his own version of home, his solace decked in red and blue.


End file.
